


The Wife

by orionsnights



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Cheating, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Mafia Member Edward Cullen | Mobward, Mobster Edward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2020-10-27 20:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20766515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionsnights/pseuds/orionsnights
Summary: To suspect is one thing. To see it is another.





	1. Passivity

I don't want to be here.

I sit back in my chair at the dinner table next to my husband, who hasn't acknowledged me since we sat down. Even then, it was only to pull out my chair, because Edward Cullen, though he may lack a lot of things, never lacks manners. His mother made sure of that.

My dress is too loose. I haven't eaten well lately. This shroud of loneliness that cloaks me has been affecting my appetite, but it hardly matters. I had a few pounds to lose after the small bit I gained after we got married. Happy weight, they called it. It seems almost comical now.

We were happy, though. Back when Edward was still in his 20's, back when I was a small-town girl, new to the city of Chicago. Back before this life had corrupted me. Yes, when we first got married, we had been blissfully happy.

I'm only 25. My husband is 35. We've been married for two years, though we've been together for six. Already I feel like a ghost, like a shell of who I was before. I'll simply sit here, and play my role until it's time to leave. Like fucking always.

I grab my wine glass and look at my husband, who is eating and talking with his family. Smiling and joking like he always has. He didn't change with them - only with me.

It was never this bad - this distance, this avoidance. A year ago, it had started to seep into our marriage in small ways. The late nights. His failure to call and alert me to his whereabouts. Snapping at me when I ask questions. And the things that I let slide back then now made me angry. The smell of perfume on his tie. The lipstick haphazardly erased from his cheek. Even then, he had a smile and an excuse. "Babe, you know how these girls get around me. They can't resist. I had to have Em drag them out of the room. They know they can't have me."

No, it had never been this bad. Not until a little over two months ago, when everything became exponentially worse. Some days he wouldn't come home at all. Or he'd lock himself in his study through the night. Our sex, which previously had been plentiful and fiercely passionate, suddenly became sparse and dull. More often than not, I waited for his inevitable retreat before I would finish myself off. And that's when I finally allowed myself to consider the abhorrent thought that had been creeping into my subconscious.

He's cheating on me.

If you had asked me a year ago if I thought Edward would cheat on me, I would have laughed in your face. My husband may be considered the devil by some. He may make a living by doing some highly questionable things. But if there was one thing I would have been able to swear on, it was his loyalty. To his business, his family - to me.

But I couldn't escape these thoughts that now flooded my brain. And I couldn't bring myself to ask. I was trapped - leaving wouldn't be acceptable. Leaving most likely meant death. There's no way that these people would allow me to walk away, not knowing all the things I know. It would only take five minutes of my time to give the FBI their entire case against the people I used to consider a family, and that couldn't ever happen. They'd have to kill me. It was a situation that many women in my position I'm sure felt before.

It hadn't really bothered me, being the wife of a mafioso. Edward was a different man to me then he was to anyone else. Or at least he used to be. To anyone else, he was the man you didn't want to cross. The top of the food chain - if he was sent to deal with you, you most likely wouldn't see the sunrise the next day. And while he may not be the Boss, he was next in line. Il Principe. The Prince of Chicago. They cowered at his feet. To me, he was softer. Loving. Caring. Around me, he didn't have to be hard all the time. He didn't have to be ready to kill every second. He just had to exist.

In past generations, it wasn't uncommon for a mafioso to take a mistress or five. Even Edward's own father was known to keep extra company. Edward had laid next to me in bed, spewing hateful words on his father for having these mistresses, for making his mother suffer. He would tell me he could never do that to someone. When we first met, he would become absolutely livid if I ever doubted his loyalty. He would never, ever, cheat.

I snorted into my wine glass, and then froze, realizing I had done so out loud unintentionally. Edward glanced up at me for a moment, and I'm not sure what he saw, but it caused him to look slightly pained. Could he see the questions in my eyes? Could he see that I suspected? Would he put me out of my misery?

No. He simply looked away. Avoidance.

It wasn't long before he dismissed us from the table, telling everyone we would see them later. And like the submissive little wife that I was, I followed. I hugged a few other wives goodbye, I shook hands. I allowed Edward to slip my coat over my shoulders. And I sat in silence in the car.

"I have to go out of town until Friday," he said as we entered the parking garage of our apartment building. Luxury condos, owned by the Cullen's. The place was a fucking fortress.

"Where to?" I questioned mildly, not even bothering to look at him. We were parking.

"Brasil. I might not have good service. Probably won't be able to call much." Of course not.

"Alright." I agreed and exited the car.

Once in the house, he retreated into our closet to pack, and I locked myself in the bathroom, emerging myself into a bath. I let the steam and the scented oils calm me, stopping the dormant anger from surfacing. My anger would only fuel his own, and I wasn't in the mood to fight with him. These days, we fight over stupid shit, saying everything except what actually needed to be said.

The next morning I awoke to an empty bed. I stared at his unused pillow for a moment before I found the strength to get up. My whole body ached, a feeling I had become familiar to. When I first met my husband, I was sore and exhausted almost every morning from our nightly activities. Now, my body ached like I had aged a hundred years.

There was a note on my nightstand, that I knew was from Edward. He always left one, even in this strange climate between us. I simultaneously looked forward to these notes and dreaded them. I looked forward to the familiarity, this thing that he would do back when things were better. Now, I dread his words. Nothing he ever writes is what I want to hear.

Enjoy your week. I'll see you on Friday. - E

I sighed and left the note where I found it.


	2. Escape

I gave up a lot of things when I decided to marry Edward. I gave up my family, who disapproved of my choice. They didn't even show up to the wedding. I gave up becoming a teacher. "It's not safe, you sitting there in a public space like that," Edward had insisted. "It would be like leaving a sacrificial lamb for my enemies. It's not happening." So here I sat, the epitome of a bored housewife. A Master's degree unused. No kids to take anywhere. The house cleaned by someone else.

It became crucial for me to establish a routine to avoid losing my mind. So, every day I wake up and head into our kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. I sit on our balcony that looks out over the city and read while finishing my coffee, and then I change and ensure that I look presentable. I go to take a walk with at least two bodyguards following me. Knowing my husband, there may be more. The bodyguards seemed a bit excessive but after a few close calls, it became necessary. I walk, I come home, I make breakfast, usually just fruit or yogurt. Then I do my workouts in the workout room we have.

After an hour or so of working out, I shower and get dressed. By the time I'm done, it's usually close to lunchtime, and I'll make myself lunch, then go into my library to do some research for my abandoned these and scholarly interests, or I write. On days that I'm feeling particularly morose, I'll go into the den and watch tv. Then I cook dinner and clean up afterward so Edward doesn't come home to a mess. I'll keep the food warm until about 9 or 10, which usually means it's a late-night or he isn't coming home. I'll either force myself to eat or just pack it all up and put it in the fridge. My night is concluded with a bath, and a book in bed.

Some days, I'll go do some volunteer work with Edwards's mother, or if I need something, I'll go shopping. But mostly, I just stay home and out of trouble, like the good little wife I am.

My walk today was cut short by the weather. It looked as if a storm was coming in, and the wind was picking up. Benny, the bodyguard closest to me insisted we go back home, and I agreed. He walked me into the building and rode the elevator up with me, and then disappeared into the security suite, leaving me to walk the final thirty feet alone. It was as I approached our apartment that I noticed the manilla envelope in front of the door.

My blood ran cold, and I froze for a solid minute before approaching slowly. I stared at it for a moment, scared to touch it. The fact that someone had managed to get it up to the doorway of our apartment was unnerving to me. That was impossible. _Unless it was an inside job, _a voice in my subconscious whispered. I looked around before picking it up and unlocking the door. Once inside, I set the envelope down on the dining room table and pulled out my gun, quickly doing a sweep of the house to ensure no one was here. Everything appeared untouched, so I cautiously approached the envelope again. It only had my name on it. Isabella Cullen. It was written in all cursive.

I took a few deep breaths before I opened the envelope and poured the contents onto the table in front of me. And what I saw nearly made me collapse.

My husband was featured in all of the photos. I could tell they had been taken at least a month or two ago because his beard was shorter in these photos than it is currently. And he wasn't alone. In every single picture, Edward was with a woman. All the same woman, someone I had never seen before, they looked to be in different hotel rooms. And it showed them in all types of sordid acts. Her, on her knees, blowing my husband. My husband on top of her in the bed, naked and sweating. The worst one was the one of him holding her hair as she was bent over the bed, and he was pounding her from behind. I looked at every single picture multiple times before my hands begin to shake and I collapsed onto the floor.

I couldn't even bring myself to cry. Not this time. Not now that I know all my suspicions are true. My husband is cheating on me. Multiple times now, my husband has been with another woman. And is it worse that it's all the same woman? I vaguely wondered who she was. What made her different.

I found that I couldn't even be mad at her. I honestly had to admire the woman for breaking through to my husband. It was something I thought made me different, the way I shocked people when I first made my way into Edward's life, but clearly I'm not as special as I thought if this woman had accomplished it as well. However, I could be mad at my husband. I could feel anger starting to seep into me, warming me, breaking me from my numbness. All these years of sacrifice, for what? To be thrown to the side? To fade into the background of his wild, dangerous life? Become half of the person that I was before? No. I refuse to let that happen. I'm too young to let that happen.

Edward wasn't due home for four more days and I couldn't even think about facing him. I didn't want to see his face, or hear his voice, or listen to his lies or excuses. It was then that a plan formed in my mind. Because I couldn't stay here, in _our_ home, waiting for him. I deserve better than that. I stood back up, without taking another glance at the photos on the table, and made my way into our bedroom, into my closet. In the back, behind a painting, was my personal safe.

In there, I found what I would need for my escape to go unnoticed by security. Stacks of money. Passports and ID's in different names. Even a blonde wig, ready for me to wear.

For a while, when we first got married, it was quite dangerous. The relationships between _Cosa Nostra_ and others were rocky, and I was becoming a primary target. In the event that anyone could infiltrate the security in our building, we developed an escape plan, for me to leave under disguise and from a different floor. The door to a private stairwell was hidden in my closet, and I would be able to follow it, in my blonde disguise, down to a different floor, where a blonde woman did, in fact, live. There, I would be able to exit the building through the main elevator, provided there wasn't anyone blocking it.

My primary goal now was to leave without security noticing it was me, and this was my best bet. I took a long shower and hid my long hair under a wig cap, while I worked on fitting the blonde wig over it. It was thick and went to mid-back, curling at the ends. Once I was satisfied that it was in place and looked natural, I applied some makeup and grabbed a few items I wouldn't be able to live without, before heading back into my closet. I found a bag I hadn't used much that was big enough to fit a few things in, but still looked like a purse and wouldn't attract attention. I loaded the bag up with cash and the passport/ID combo that featured me with blonde hair, as well as my current passport and ID, just in case. I threw in a few valuables in case things got rough, and then moved to get dressed.

I chose to go with something similar to what I had seen the girl downstairs that I'm posing as wear. I decided on a black skin-tight turtleneck long sleeve shirt, a pair of skintight blue jeans, black high heeled ankle boots, and a plaid blazer. With a final glance around our room, I went back into the dining area. It was there that I collected a few of the photos to take with me as my own proof - where I was going, I would need it.

I grabbed the remaining photos and moved them to the entryway table, where Edward would see them upon entering. It was there that I paused. Do I leave without a word? Do I leave a note? Yes, I decided, anger coursing through me. I needed him to know that my leaving was intentional. I needed him to know what these photos meant to me and to our marriage. Because I truly could not see myself coming back at this point in time. How could I, when the man I thought I knew ended up being completely different?

I went into my study, pulling out a piece of paper. I sat there, mulling over the words for a long while before I finally put them down onto paper.

_Edward -_

_To suspect is one thing. To see it is another. Devastated is too mild a word to describe how I feel right now._

_By the time you read this, I'll be far away. Where I am now, I'm safe. I don't want to hear from you. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want you to send some fucking goons to come find me. My mouth is shut. You don't have to worry about where _my _loyalty lies._

_\- Isabella Swan_

Signing it with my maiden name may have been hurtful or petty, but I was beyond caring at this point. I capped the pen and pushed in my chair. It was dusk, so I texted Benny.

_Not feeling well. Will stay in tomorrow. - IC_

I called the housekeeper and asked her not to come until Friday, as well as a cab for myself. Hopefully, this would give me at least a day or two to get out of Chicago before anyone noticed I was gone. I folded my note and set it with the photos on the hallway table. I left my phone there as well. I picked up my purse, prepared to head back to my closet to my hidden stairwell before I realized there was one more thing I had to leave for him. Carefully, I set the bag back down and removed my wedding rings from my finger. I admired them for a moment. The engagement ring was a teardrop emerald laid amongst tiny diamonds, while the second piece was simply a row of small diamonds embedded into the platinum band. With a heavy heart, I laid them next to everything else, then picked up my bag and walked away towards our room without turning back.

Apprehensively, I pushed open the hidden door that led to the staircase. It was dark, so I had to feel my way down until I got to the fifth floor, where it ended. I stood up taller, pushed a big pair of sunglasses onto my face, then marched out. Luckily, no one was around to see that I had come out of a door that had never been opened before. I impatiently called for an elevator. When the doors opened, I made sure to hide my face as best as I could. I tried to not show any nervousness either, as I knew they had someone watching elevator footage. The lobby was the tricky part. The doorman was one of Edward's goons, and I'm sure there were others hidden around. I tried to walk differently, to swing my arms differently - as if that would make a difference - and kept my head down as I passed through. I held my breath walking through the doors and made my way straight into a waiting cab.

"Where to, ma'am?" the driver asked as I glanced back at the doorman. He wasn't even looking our way.

"O'Hare International Airport, please."


	3. Miami

Once at the airport, I made my way to a payphone and dialed the number I had written down and put into my wallet. It rang twice before it picked up.

"Hello?"

I sighed, relieved he had picked up.

"Jas, it's me," I whispered into the phone.

"Bella? Why the fuck are you calling from a random number?"

"I'll tell you everything when I get there. I'm about to buy a ticket and come to Miami but I need to ask a favor." I was suddenly extremely anxious, focused on getting to Miami.

"A ticket? And not the jet?"

"Jasper, please. I'll explain everything once I'm there. This flight I'm about to buy a ticket for, it gets in just before midnight. I need someone to pick me up. It's just me."

There's a long pause. "I'll be there," he acquiesced.

"Thank you." I take a deep breath. "There's one more thing."

"And that is?"

"No one can know. Your staff can't say anything, Alice can't say anything, you can't say anything. Not to anyone. Especially not to Edward." I winced as I said his name.

Another pause. "I hope you know what you're doing," he finally said into the phone, resigned.

"Unfortunately I do. I'll see you soon?"

"For sure, sis. See you soon."

I hung up and swallowed back any emotion that had arisen in that call. Jasper is Edward's brother, but they have never been very close. However, we were extremely close, partially due to my friendship with his wife Alice. Of all the wives and girlfriends I've known, she's the most genuine and the only one I feel I can truly be myself around.

They live in Miami, where Jasper runs the Cullen enterprise in the city. Cocaine, weed, clubs, all of it is run by the Cullen's. If I felt safe anywhere, it was with him.

Luckily, there was one more first-class ticket, which I managed to convince them to allow me to pay for in cash. Security was a breeze, and before I knew it, I was on a plane leaving Chicago.

With my adrenaline slowing down, I found myself fighting back tears. The anger in me was so strong before, it was all I could feel. Now, betrayal and shame coursed through me, and I threw my sunglasses back on, trying to hide that I was having a full breakdown from everyone.

I couldn't believe that Edward had truly cheated on me. Even when I suspected it, there was a part of me that was in denial. I truly hadn't believed him possible of such an act. I had spent so many nights trying to convince myself I was being dramatic, that it was something, anything else. And now, here I was. A scorned woman, on her way to her brother-in-law's house, quite literally running and hiding from her husband.

I must have dozed off because before I knew it we were landing in Miami. I practically ran off the plane, down to the passenger pick up area, where Jasper and several other men were waiting for me next to two Audi Q7s. I felt such relief upon seeing Jasper, that I threw myself in his arms, and felt the tears begin to flow again.

"_Cosa ti ha fatto_?" Jasper hissed in my ear, and I cringed at the venom in his voice. _What did he do? _I pulled back and shook my head.

"Not here," I told him, and he helped me into the car. He sat silently as we took off, heading to his home off of Sabal Lake. Once in the safety of the car, I rid myself of the wig and began to take off the cap as well.

"Finally!" I exclaimed, brushing out my hair with my fingers. I sunk into the seat with relief.

"_Cara, _I can't take not knowing for much longer," Jasper warned. I closed my eyes and nodded, then reached into my bag and handed him the envelope I had brought with me. He watched me for a moment, eyes wary and calculating before he opened it and took a look at the contents. He took a look at the first picture, and his eyes flashed up to me in surprise briefly, before he focused back on the photos. I looked out the window as he flipped through them. It was quiet in the car, until suddenly…

"Fuck!" Jasper yelled, causing the driver to veer slightly. "Felix, drive fucking straight or I swear to god, I'll shoot you!" He then snapped at the driver.

Jasper put the photos away and into his pocket. Good. I didn't want to see them anymore. He then leaned forward and grabbed my hand.

"Bella, have you spoken to Edward?" His green eyes were locked on mine, intense and focused.

I had tears in my eyes and my throat felt too thick to speak so I shook my head. It seemed after the last several hours of suppressing my emotions, they were starting to surface again.

"Did you just find out? Because of these?"

I cleared my throat and closed my eyes before I began talking. "I suspected. It's been bad this past year. He's gone all the time, some nights he doesn't even come home. He hardly even looks at me anymore." The dam burst and those frustrated tears fell down my face even faster than before.

"He's in Brazil until Friday," I cried to Jas. "He said he wouldn't be able to call. No one should know I'm gone for at least two days. I even left my phone there."

"Shhhh," Jas cooed, rubbing his thumb over my hand, which he still held in his own. "It'll be fine. You'll be fine. Let's just get you to the house."

Our journey to the house was short. The neighborhood Jas lived in was a private gated community, in addition to the house itself is gated. The Miami Cullen house was a mansion on the water. On average, there are at least ten guards on patrol, in addition to the house's high-end security system. It seemed like overkill, however, the drug game down here was pretty intense, leading to the demand for increased security.

We made our way through the house gate and into one of the garages. The property is absolutely huge, with the house being outfitted entirely with modern technology, appliances, and furniture. I hadn't been here in quite a while, so I let Jasper lead me into the house, up the stairs and to one of the guest bedrooms. In my emotional state, the details of the house were a bit of a blur.

"You can stay here. This is your room. It's almost as large as the master, so I think you'll like it," he told me, starting to lower the electronic shades of the floor to ceiling windows that line most of the room. I sat on the bed, exhaustion suddenly hitting my body.

"Let me get you some sleeping clothes. I'll be right back." I didn't acknowledge him and he left the room. A few moments later, he returned holding a silk pajama set.

"Here. It's Ali's, so it might be a little small, but this'll work for now."

I took it, nodding slightly, looking down. By now, the adrenalin had completely left my body, and I was back to a low point - the lowest I think I'd ever felt. Jas seemed to sense this and knelt by where I sat.

"Bella," he prompted, and I looked at him, blinking back the wetness beginning to form in my eyes again. "I won't tell anyone you're here. No one here will speak of your whereabouts to anyone outside of this home. You can rest. You can heal, and think, and figure out what to do. Hell, you can move here if you want. But you don't need to figure any of that out tonight. For now, you can sleep. Take as long as you need." I tried a small smile, hoping to portray how grateful I feel. I think he got it, because he nodded and stood, but then paused.

"And Bella?" I look up at him. "This isn't your fault. Edward made his decision, and it had nothing to do with you. Okay? Don't beat yourself up because my brother is an idiot." I closed my eyes, still looking up, and I felt the tears fall down my cheeks. I nodded again, and I heard Jasper sigh as he made his way across the room.

"Goodnight, Bella." The door quietly shut, and I was left alone once again.


	4. Call

_Disclaimer: I own everything but the characters. Those belong to Stephanie Meyer._

The next few days passed in a blur. The depression was suffocating, and I found it hard to leave my new bed. I laid in Alice's slightly too-small silk pajamas for days, only managing to sleep or cry. The only time I left the room was for water, and Jasper seemed to be bringing me food that I could barely pick through.

I wondered if Edward had found out yet. If he had found the photos and the rings. If he even cared. There was a part of me, in my worst moments, that wished I had my rings still, but I knew that to heal, I had to separate myself from him. I couldn't view myself as his wife, couldn't remember what it felt like to be that for him. It seemed so far away. Now, I was simply a woman who had been hurt. A nobody, in the scheme of things.

I switched between extreme anger and extreme sadness often. At times, I found myself raging and cursing Edward and anyone who was close to him. I cursed my parents, who were right about him. I cursed myself for allowing any of this to happen. Most of all, I cursed _Cosa Nostra, _who I blamed for Edward's straying, although I knew that he made his own choices.

It wasn't until my 5th day in Miami that this cycle of angst changed, and that change occurred in the form of the little black-haired pixie that is Alice Cullen.

I woke up that morning to the blinds in my room rising, the morning sun blinding me suddenly. I raised a hand to cover my eyes and looked around the room accusingly. Alice stood by the foot of the bed, hands on her hips as she looked at me.

"Alice, what the fuck are you doing? What time is it?"

"It's 8 am. And you're disgusting. You haven't showered in almost a week. Get up!" She yanked the cover off of me and I squealed as I tried to yank it back. My head was starting to hurt.

"Alice," I whined, putting a pillow over my head.

She sat down next to me on the bed and gently pulled the pillow away from my face.

"Bella, babe. You had your mourning time. I let you lie here in despair for four days now. It's time to get up and be the sexy ass bitch I know you are!" I looked at her as she smiled at me hopefully. Alice is a tiny little thing, with a black bob, pixie-like features, and too much energy for such a tiny body. On the other hand, Jasper is very calm and cool-headed. They balanced each other well. Jasper had let me wallow for a few days, and now she was balancing out the "Deal-With-Bella" treatment with action.

"I have the whole day planned!" She explained excitedly. "First, the spa for some much-needed pampering, then the salon for a trim and our nails, then shopping! As cute as you look in that tiny little set, if you keep walking around in that, I think our pool boy is gonna have a heart attack. Also, I probably need to burn it." She laughed as I chucked a pillow at her.

"Let's go!" She yelled, running into the bathroom. "Shower, shower, shower!"

With a deep sigh, I got up and followed her to the bathroom.

Alice was right, of course. Our day of pampering and extravagance had me feeling amazing. After I had showered and squeezed into one of Alice's dresses, we had gone for massages, facials, and waxing. Once I was covered in oil and hairless below the neck, we made our way to the spa where I was given a hair treatment and a trim, and my nails were shaped and painted a sheer pinkish nude color, and my makeup was done. From there, we went to a thousand shops and ended up buying me so much shit, we had to have her bodyguards carry our items for us.

Once home, Alice and I spent an hour unpacking everything into my walk-in closet. I now had a fully functioning wardrobe for all occasions, including formal, and felt so much better. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't see the ghost that has been walking around for the past few months. I saw the strong, pretty girl I was before all of this. And for the first time since leaving my apartment back in Chicago, I felt okay.

Jasper and Alice have a chef who comes in a few times a week since Alice isn't fond of cooking. Tonight, their chef, Giovanna, is making us gnocchi in a tomato sauce with pork, and the smells were making me drool. After all, I had been avoiding food for days now.

Jasper arrived home around eight. He walked into the room wearing a sleek looking suit, kissing Alice on the cheek as he walked by. "Let me change and I'll be down for dinner love," he said, turning, then froze when he saw me setting the table.

"Bella, you look amazing!" he exclaimed in shock, kissing my cheek as well. I blushed at the praise. It had been a while since someone had complimented the way I look. I couldn't even remember the last time Edward had spared me a compliment. Then again, he would have had to look at me to do so. "Thanks, Jas. You and Alice spoiled me more than I deserve today. It was amazing, I can't thank you enough."

Jasper waved his hand dismissively. "It was nothing. Anything you want is yours. You don't have to worry about a thing here." Alice flitted by us with the pot of saucy gnocchi.

"Jas, if you want to change, you'd better hurry."

"Of course, love. I'll be right down," He promised as he continued on upstairs. I finished setting the table, and poured the wine, sitting down with Alice.

Dinner was a lighthearted affair. I had several glasses of wine and was feeling light-hearted being surrounded by people who truly cared for me. It had been a while since I had actually enjoyed myself. It had also been a while since I drank this heavily, which was evident in the fact that Jasper had to help me up to my room. I fell onto the bed, and I felt Jasper pulling off my shoes. I sighed happily as he yanked one off.

"I wish I could've been this happy," I cooed drunkenly. "Like you and Alice. _You_ wouldn't cheat on Alice."

Jas paused, and pulled off my other shoe. He helped adjust me into the bed, and then pulled the cover over me and quietly exited the room. I quickly fell into a heavy sleep.

I awoke the following morning to knocking.

"Bella!" A voice called through the door. More knocks. I groaned and rolled over. My mouth felt dry, but my head and stomach were fine. "I hope you're decent, I'm coming in." the voice called, and my door opened. I looked up to see Jasper looking at me anxiously as he made his way into my room. It immediately sent me on edge.

"What is it?" I asked, struggling to sit up. "What happened?"

Jas sat down on the chair in the corner of the room and ran a hand through his hair. I flinched. Edward does that.

"I got a call this morning," he began slowly. "From Emmett." Fuck. Emmett. The third brother. The one who was close with Edward. Edward's right-hand fucking man.

"And what did he have to say?" I asked quietly. I knew what I was going to hear.

"Emmett said…" he paused. "Emmett asked me to keep an eye and ear out for you. He hadn't even asked if I had seen you. He said that you left Edward and no one knows where you went. That they know you went to the airport, but they haven't been able to access the airport security cameras and figure out where you went." I'm nodding by the time he finishes. I'm glad to hear this. I wished he wouldn't try so hard to find out where I am, but I knew that was unrealistic.

"Okay. That's not too bad." I tell him, but I can tell by his face there is more to it. I raise an eyebrow and he knows to continue. Tentatively, he does.

"I asked Emmett if he knew what happened. He said he didn't. All he knows is they were in Brazil, and Edward got a call that they couldn't find you. They flew back early, and Edward went into the apartment. They left him alone to go look at whatever it was that you left behind until he started to break everything in the apartment. Emmett said he doesn't know what happened, but Edward is a mess. He won't sleep or eat. He ju-"

"I don't want to hear it!" I tried to stay calm, but I think I screamed the words. "He cheated on me! I don't need to hear how my leaving upset him. He's just mad that he lost control of me. That's all." Suddenly, I'm too anxious to sit down. I'm out of the bed and pacing, my hands trapped in my hair.

"Bella, you know what I'm going to say," Jasper says quietly and I shake my head.

"Don't."

He does anyway. "You need to call him. Just let him know you're alive and that's it. The fucker doesn't deserve more than that. Tell him to call off the search, you have bodyguards, you're safe, and that's it." I'm shaking my head as he says this, but he's right. Unless I want him to show up in Miami and drag me back to Chicago, I need to at least let him know I'm alive.

"I need a burner if I'm going to call him," I tell Jasper, standing stiffly on the other side of the room.

"Already done," he said, and fished a phone out of his pocket, and I walk over to him and take it. I sit on the bed looking at the phone, contemplating how to do this. Preferably after coffee.

"How about some breakfast first?" I ask hopefully, but he just gives me a hard look, standing up from where he is perched.

"I'll get breakfast started. You call him and come down when you're finished." He pats my shoulder as he passes, and leaves quietly. I don't know how long I sit there, running my fingers on the edges of the phone, but finally, I feel the resolve settle in me, and I dial that number I know so well. It rings once, twice, and then it picks up.

"_Sì_?" His voice cuts harshly through the phone, exhausted and sharp, and suddenly my blood is pounding through my head. My body is reacting, my breath quickening. Anger, betrayal begins to seep into me.

I must wait too long to answer because he asks again, "_Che cosa?_" I inhale.

"Edward," I say simply, and I listen to him pause, his sharp intake of air.

"Bella," he breathes. My eyes shut tightly at that familiar sound. Familiar before all of this shit. "Bella, where are you?" He sounds like he's choking as he cuts out the words.

"I'm safe," I whisper, clearing my throat and then starting over. "I'm safe. I'm away from Chicago. Listen, I need you to call off the search you have going for me. I'm not ready to see you, or come back."

"You have to come back." He snaps, anger infiltrating his previously broken voice. "You're my wife."

Such a simple thing to say. The wrong thing to say.

"Not for long," I hiss, and he gasps. "Why would I want to be the wife of someone who doesn't even want me? Of someone who doesn't even respect me?"

I'm fuming, and he's breathing heavily.

"Bella, please, I-" I can't listen to him. I can't talk to him.

"Call off the search," I demand. "I'm more than fine. I have bodyguards with me. I'm better off here than I ever was with you!" And with that, I hang up the phone and snatch the battery out of the back, throwing the broken pieces across the room, and collapsing back onto the bed.


	5. Pool Boy

It's at least a half-hour before I move from my position. My heart was pounding and the anger and despair, which had taken a backseat after yesterday, was coursing through me like the strongest drug known to man. I hoped he would listen to me, and call off the search. Knowing him, he would keep looking, but rescind the APB he had put out to anyone in the network.

It's just like him to play games, and I found I'm tired of it. He caught me in his web when I was 18, admittedly a romantic at heart, and I instantly fell in love. Add the fact that he was a crime lord, under investigation by the FBI, and had a shit-ton of money? Yeah. I wanted him. Just the thought of him made me wet back then. Now the thought of him makes me want to stab someone. Preferably him.

In my best moments, I hate him. In my worst, I still love him. Because despite what he did, he was my first love and he'll always have that piece of me. But was it enough to heal? Did I want to stay with him? Did he even want me?

Eventually, I put a forceful halt to those thoughts and made myself presentable for breakfast. Alice was in the pool when I got downstairs, and Jasper was in the kitchen, working on what looked like creamed eggs. The funny thing about Jasper is that despite being a drug pushing, weapons dealing badass, he loved cooking. Like, fine cuisine type cooking. He just rarely had the time.

"How'd it go?" He asked cautiously as I made myself a cup of coffee. "You were up there a while."

"Yeah, well I only spoke to him for, like, 60 seconds. When I told him I wasn't ready to come back, he told me I had to. And I quote, 'I'm his wife'." The sarcasm was ripe in my voice, and Jasper flinched.

"Yeah. Let's just hope he listens. Otherwise, I'll never be able to leave this house." I whine and then wander off to drink my coffee.

"He'll listen," Jasper tells me later after we've eaten breakfast. "I can feel that he will."

I simply shrug and retreat back to my room.

The next day, Alice decides I need a tan and booze. We're laying out by her giant pool, firm bodies glistening in sunscreen under the sun. I'm in a small little black bikini and oversized glasses, feeling alien in the humid Miami heat. It's still cold in Chicago, and it shows in my paleness. Alice is in a bombshell red one-piece, looking like something out a magazine. It's not fair, but I try not to envy her too much. It's bad enough that I'm jealous of her marriage.

Alice is chattering away, but it's background noise for me. Instead, I stare at the palm trees above me. I feel a strange affection for them, as if they represent something. Perhaps my escape.

"Whoops," Alice suddenly interrupts herself. "Jacob's here. I forgot he was coming today."

I look over at Alice, who's eyeing the pool shed thoughtfully.

"Jacob?"

"He's our pool-boy-slash-gardener. He's Billy Black's kid." That gets my attention.

"What the fuck is he doing working your house then?"

Billy Black is the _consigliere. _He advises Edward's father, Carlisle Cullen. He used to be a professional assassin, until he was paralyzed in an incident in Cuba. Ever since, he's sat at Carlisle's side, educating him in whatever lethal ways may work best.

"Billy wants him to get through college before he works the family business, you know? Stay out of it all until he's got a little bit of experience out there. He wanted a job and this was what was settled on. He might step up to security soon. You should get an eyeful of him, Bella, he straight up _glistens_ while he's working in the sun. All those sweaty muscles and sexy shoulder-length hair… Mmmmm." She hums, and I roll my eyes.

"Alice, he's like 18. And you're married, must I remind you?"

"Um, excuse me, he's 21! And there's nothing wrong with looking."

"Until it leads to fucking," I tell her, then wince. "Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" She demanded. "I was the one being insensitive." She pats my hand, which I hate.

I sigh, and then stand up, stretching. We've been lying here for over an hour.

"Alice, I thought you were gonna make me a drink." I point out, and she laughs, scurrying up and into the house. I approach the pool apprehensively, sticking my big toe in the water. It's a little cool, but is a nice contrast to the heat. I'm just about to dip my whole foot in, but a rustling sound behind me results in me halting my actions.

"It won't bite you, ya know?"

A husky voice startles me, and I whirl around, my hand going up to my chest where my heart is beating quickly. I'm staring, I'm sure wide eyes at the man in front of me, who had snuck up behind me, and now I understand what Alice meant. Tan skin. Bulging muscles. Shoulder length hair that can't decide if it wants to curl or wave or not. Glistening sweat.

He's looking at me with dark brown eyes, and he's eyeing me up and down like I'm a fucking meal or something. I'm affronted by his boldness. It's been a while since a man looked at me like that - darkening eyes, wandering gaze. Edward would kill someone for even glancing at me. Edward would barely glance at me.

"You're bold," I tell him, and my voice sounds a little husky too.

"I've been told that a few times," he jokes, and winks. Bad.

"You know who I am?"

"Yes."

"And you still came to talk to me?"

He crosses his arms across his chest. Where's his shirt? I spy his tribal tattoo and lick my lips.

"How could I not?"

"You better be careful." My warning is so weak. He can tell.

"Or what? You'll call your husband? Doubtful."

I'm breathing heavily. I'm mad. I'm overheating. I'm uncomfortable with this young man who is suddenly making me feel desirable with his heavy eyes and full lips. I almost walk away, but Alice suddenly has impeccable timing.

"Oh, Jacob! You've met Bella!"

She's fawning over him and handing me my drink, and I tune out her coos and walk away. Because Jacob Black is the last thing I need right now.

I try to avoid him after that. I really do. But the rest of the week, I find myself out by the pool, loitering and inconspicuously watching him work. And I often find his dark eyes on me too. His gaze feels like a caress. It's beginning to unravel me like one. Whenever our eyes meet, I feel like he's told me a secret. Like he's whispering dirty things in my ear.

A week later, I came to the thought of him, using my own hand.

I fall asleep crying that night. I couldn't believe this was my life now. It hurts, and at one point I even considered calling Edward. My husband. The guilt was overbearing. It felt like cheating in a way.

I wake up angry. Per usual. Cry, get mad, mope, become livid. Bella's emotional cycle. This time, I found I was angry at myself. Why should I feel guilty? I'm not the first married woman to come to self-induced orgasm from the thought of the pool boy. Fuck, I'm not even the only one in this house who lusts after him.

So why do I feel like I betrayed him?


	6. Paranoia

"I spoke to Emmett today." Jasper's voice cuts through the quiet. It's breakfast time, and another week has passed. I've been getting stir crazy cooped up in the house, but Edward didn't call off any of his people after we spoke, so I was forced to stay in the house in case anyone recognized me. I didn't think anyone would, but I couldn't risk it.

"And?"

"He called it off." I drop my fork.

"He what?"

"He said that Edward asked the larger network to stop looking. But he's still got his men on it, and he's hired a PI."

I'm nodding. I pick up my fork again. "A little later than expected, but I can't say I'm surprised," I'm trying to sound calm, but I can't help but fear that his PI will find me. And then one day Edward will be here to destroy more pieces of me with his pleading and excuses. And I'm still weak enough that I'd take him back.

I'm pathetic.

"I think you should call him again," Jasper tells me. I knew this was coming. It was probably overdue. I still didn't think he deserved to know I'm even alive, but if it keeps him away from me longer, I'll do it. Still, I push back.

"I'd really prefer not to, Jas."

"You need to," he insists. "You need to call him. We need to know what's going through his head, and you know if I call and ask it'll only make him suspicious."

I bristle at his persistence. "Why do you need to know? I can tell you what he's thinking. He's upset he lost control of his wife, who he considers property, and that's why he wants me back. He's probably still getting his dick wet and getting high, and locating me is his new little hobby. All because he lost control. I don't need to call him to know that." I'm petulant and I'm terse. Jasper is irritated, too.

"For my peace of mind? The last thing I need is my brother showing up here and trying to kill me for harboring you. Will you please just call him?"

I sit in silence and stew for several minutes. I can't even eat my food. So I turn into that person I'm used to being when I'm unhappy and do the things I don't want to do. I agree to call my husband again.

"After breakfast," I tell him, and I'm getting a bit suspicious, and I can't sort out why. I find myself eyeing Jasper as I eat, speculating this gut feeling. I trust this man. I tell myself that. I repeat it, like a mantra, until another thought derails me. _You trusted Edward too, and look how that turned out._

After breakfast, I take the new burner phone. I go outside by the pool shed and hold it to my ear. I say the things they expect me to say. I pretend. And I retreat to my room, handing the now-smashed phone to Jasper and retreating to my room for the day. I don't re-emerge until after Jasper and Alice have had their nightly fuck and gone to sleep. I can't possibly face Jasper. I fear he'll see the expression on my face, and just know that I know. Or that I think I know something I don't really know. That I'm suspicious and speculating. I know they can kill me.

I can't sleep that night. My mind is racing with possibilities.

Jasper hates Edward.

Jasper hasn't asked for specifics about the photos. Didn't ask how I got them, or inquire who took them as I have on drunken nights when I forget that I'm mad and focus on the 'how' instead of just the 'what' like I normally do.

Jasper keeps pushing me to call Edward off. To keep him away from here.

And suddenly I'm freaking out.

It's around two am that I find myself outside in the yard, trying to breathe through the panic. The humid air does nothing for me. It's getting caught in my throat and wisping through thick hair, and I'm choking. My brain can't sort out reality from theory. Is Jasper behind any of this? Is he trying to get rid of Edward? Is this even a plausible theory? Am I losing my mind? Am I doomed to this existence of not trusting another man or his intentions?

I sit down on the ground, uncaring in my matching satin sleep set, and put my head between my knees, trying to calm down my breathing and my mind is racing. I used to get panic attacks like these when I was with Edward, early on, in the _before_. They'd usually happen on nights where someone close to us, including one of us, was threatened or hurt, or on nights when Edward came home covered in someone else's blood.

The panic wouldn't set in until later, much like it had tonight. It wouldn't be until someone was confirmed safe, or the person who threatened us was taken care of, or the blood was bleached up and burned out of clothes that I would start to get that thickness in my chest and become lightheaded. Times like those, I wanted to scream. I couldn't then. I can't now.

I try to remember what used to help me. _He_ did, but that's hardly relevant now. He won't help me now.

It's as I'm trying to figure out how to do this without his help, that I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I'm panicking even more and sticking out an arm to ward off my attacker.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there. It's just me." It's a husky voice. A voice that normally causes my breath to quicken in different ways. Jacob. He's seeing me like this. I think I'm crying through my panic. I can't know for sure.

"Please...go...away!" I plead through frantic breaths. I'm trying to hide my face from him, and I feel him sit down next to me, feel the weight of his hand on my back as he pulls me into him.

"Bella, you gotta calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." His voice is soft. I'm tucked into his broad chest, and I feel so small. I might die here. Oh, God. How could they tell Edward that?

"Bella, focus on my breathing." His voice is breaking through my overbearing thoughts. "Try to match your breaths to mine. Come on, Bella, focus on me." I close my eyes and try to do what he says. He's still talking, but instead, I'm focusing on his strong breaths, the way his chest is moving with every intake and expulsion. It feels like hours later, though it's not, but it's worked. My breathing is becoming normal again. The cotton in my throat is gone. My chest no longer has that weight.

I stay tucked into him for a little while longer after I realize I'm breathing normally. No one would know of this little crime. I eventually pull back from him, but his arms stay around me. He allows me my space.

"Better?" he asks, and his dark eyes are shining down at me. He genuinely looks concerned, and that hurts.

"Yes, I think so. Thank you."

"Anytime." He lets me sit next to him. We're no longer touching. A thought occurs to me.

"What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night." Suddenly, I feel the need to run away from him, despite his warm arms and shiny eyes.

"One of the security guards had to take care of something else. I got called to cover." I eye him speculatively and sure enough, he's wearing the security gear I'm used to seeing the night shift wear. Dark, tactical wear. They almost look like military.

"Why did you come and help me?" I ask. He simply looks at me. He doesn't answer. I don't expect him too. We sit in silence for a while, and then he speaks.

"I know you didn't make the phone call earlier." My head snaps up to look at him, wide-eyed and I feel my heart quicken.

"Don't worry. It's our secret." I keep staring at him until he finally sighs and stands up. He gazes down at me with interest until he reaches down to help me up.

"You need your rest, Bella. Go inside. Please." It's the please that's done me in. I like that it wasn't a command.

"Okay." I start to turn away, and I hear him, so quiet behind me.

"Bella?" I turn around. He's not looking at me and my body the way he does in daylight. Then, he's all heat, and heavy stares, and implication. Now, he's softer, cooled down, and pale moonlight. I like this Jacob, too.

"You did the right thing." He tells me. I'm shocked. I wonder if he knows something. I wonder if he sees the question in my eyes, because he nods. It's more than a simple 'yes'. More than an acknowledgment. He's telling me something. He's standing under the moon, breathing the same humid air, and telling me things I need to hear. Yes, I like this Jacob.

I nod back and retreat inside. He's still standing there when I close the sliding door behind me. He stays as I walk through the living room, up the main staircase. It's only when I turn off my light and wave from behind the blinds that he turns and walks back to the security perimeter.

As I lay down, I smile into the white pillows.


	7. Blow

EPOV

The room that I'm sitting in is fucking dark. Or maybe my eyes are still closed. I know I'm fucking high as shit. I've had too much scotch. I always do lately. I'd drown in scotch if I could. But would I see her again if I did? Surely not. While I would burn in hell, she would sit pretty in heaven. My angel. Because that's what Bella is. A fucking angel.

An angel I tried to drag down with me.

I'm Lucifer. I tried so hard to be good for her. I burned and burned and burned. I tried, I really did, but sure enough, the evil couldn't relinquish it's hold on me. And I don't just mean the fact that I fucked Tanya. I mean everything. The drugs. The crime. The Family. The expectations. Fuck, all the expectations. I let that shit consume me. And where did that leave me? Too far gone to leave my office. Too far gone to even find my wife. Too sick to eat the food my mother keeps pushing at me.

Too deep into all of this to keep her.

I know it's my fault. I could hardly blame her for leaving me. I never once, in our entire relationship, thought I was good enough for her. But of course, I did blame her. And whoever took those damn photos.

I hear a loud pounding sound and for a second I think it's my head, rejecting the booze and drugs and the Valium. For another, I imagine that it's her, knocking on my door, asking me to come to bed, like she used to before I started to pull away. But then I finally am able to open my eyes, and it's Emmett.

"We have a live one downstairs for you, boss." He tells me. I know what he's saying. They finally grabbed Benny, my wife's bodyguard. What a shitty, shitty bodyguard. Letting someone get those photos to my wife. Letting her sneak off like she did. And now, even after several weeks, letting my beautiful wife remain elusive. Fucking useless.

I managed to move from my chair. I wobble slightly, and Emmett reaches out to grab me, and I glower at him until he takes back his hand. He leads the way downstairs, trying to make conversation.

"So we're all set for Paris. Jasper is meeting us there tomorrow. We're leaving after we take care of this." I glare at the ground as I think of seeing my asshole brother. Instead of realizing my displeasure for the Floridian, Emmett thinks I'm too fucking strung out.

"Are you good enough to fly?"

"Of course I am." I scoff.

"Well, you look like shit."

"Fuck the fuck off."

He does.

We make it to the basement where this motherfucker is waiting for us, sitting nervously at a table. I can't even put on a front. Can't try to lure him into a false sense of security and then flip on him. As soon as I'm in that room, I'm pulling this fat ass fucker from his chair and throwing him up against the wall by the front of his shirt. Suddenly, I'm raging. This is common these days.

"First," I hiss at him, "Your team lets those fucking photos get to my door. Your system gets hacked, and there's no footage of whoever did this. Then, you lose my fucking wife. She slips right out of your fat, greasy fingers while you're in the room next door to us, jerking your little dick. And now, despite a plethora of time and leniency on my end, you can't. Find. Her." By the end of my speech, I'm spitting on him, and this cunt looks like he might piss himself.

But then, he gets a little bit of courage, most likely since he saw the pictures and the situation and my wife slowly lose her spark over months and says, "Don't blame me that you couldn't keep your wife happy."

It's silent for a moment. And then my ears are ringing and I'm punching him again and again and his head is hitting the wall, and he's on the ground so I'm kicking and hitting now and Emmett is yelling and pulling me back. And I leave. And I'm livid because he's right. But why would I admit that to myself? It's all my fault, but I'll pretend it's not. I'll pretend I didn't fuck Tanya a dozen times, for reasons she doesn't know. And I'll pretend I don't know that I'll probably never get to fuck my wife again, even though she's a million times better than anyone ever has been.

Every time I fucked Tanya, I wished it was her. Wished I hadn't put myself in that position. Wished and wished and now I wish for her to come home. Wish that one morning I'll wake up and this all was just a dream and we're still on our honeymoon and happy and glowing and sunscreen is caked on her pink skin and her teeth are blinding white as she grins at me. I'll hold her forever when I wake up from this nightmare. I'll hold her, and smell her hair, and feel her skin, and touch that mole I love. And I'll forget about all this shit.

But for now, I'm on a plane, popping Xanax, off to the most romantic city in the world, even if she did prefer the Italian coast and kisses on salty sand, and I'm wishing she was next to me. I didn't realize until now how much I relied on her. How much she was my strength and sanity. How much I need her to even feel like I'm alive.

This reality makes me wish I was dead.


	8. Saferoom

After my evening run in with Jacob, I resolved myself to avoiding him. And for about a week, I did just that. Even with him around more due to him working security as well, I would simply turn the other way if I saw him. I spent less time by the pool if I knew he was there. I cooked meals for everyone in the house to fill my time instead, but retreated to my room if he showed up for dinner.

My newfound suspicion of Jasper led to a tense atmosphere in the house. Jasper must have sensed it seeping into our interactions and backed off, leaving me pretty much alone, which led me to believe he actually was up to something. I just had to figure out what that something was.

The good news is that the opportunity to accomplish a bit of sleuthing appeared rather quickly - which made me even more apprehensive. But, I took the gift as it was offered. Alice wants to go to fashion week in Paris. Jasper will take her. He needs to wrap up some business anyway. Edward will be there for the business. No, we won't say anything to him. We promise. Yes, Alice won't say anything either. Or the guards. And Jacob will be staying in the house with you.

And what they don't say is what a temptation that will be for me. And I don't know if I can trust him.

I find it doubtful that Jacob has aligned himself with me, as far as loyalty. What am I, in the grand scheme of things? I feel like an ocean, at times resting and still, and at times raging and destructive. I could destroy Jacob. I could destroy Edward. Yet, here I sit. Stagnant. Deep. Dark.

Powerful.

Even while they're gone, I avoid Jacob. That is one line I will not cross. I regret the way I had let my thoughts drift before, even if it made me feel even worse for being loyal to someone who was never loyal to me.

I spent the first two days of Jasper and Alice's absence in bed, falling back into my old habit of reminiscing on my failed marriage. Even I could admit that it was pointless and redundant. I criticized myself - haven't I done this enough? Haven't I tortured myself enough? Haven't I laid in bed, unclean and sad enough days? Perhaps not, because here I was, doing it all again. With my newfound suspicion of Jasper and Jacob, Edward's infidelity seemed like an easier thing to focus on. I was no longer just suspicious of Edward. I had been wronged by him. My moping all these months wasn't for naught. It was weirdly satisfying.

Some hours, I would think about the sweet, loving moments I had with my husband in the past. Those memories were tinged in golds and pinks and everything was beautiful, and I found that when I thought of them, I cried for what I lost. A loving husband. Sweet moments. Sunday mornings spent skipping church and touching and loving and smoking weed. Hazy summer days on the Italian Coast, drinking wine and wearing swimsuits and pretty dresses. All of the things I would never have again. Memories that would now be bittersweet.

In my worst moments, I raged. I threw my shit around the room and sobbed and screamed into pillows. What is it about _me_ that encourages people to trick me? To lure me in and make me feel safe, only to turn around and make me regret everything?

On the third day, I got my shit together. I showered and dressed in some comfortable clothes and put on socks to make my steps softer. I waited until it was about 6pm when Jacob had been retiring to his room. What he did all night in there, I didn't know. I tiptoed across the house, into Jasper's office. My heart was pounding, and I was expecting someone to burst in at any moment, but my need for answers ruled out my fear of getting caught.

Jasper's office was entirely white and modern like his home. His desk was a mess of papers and an ashtray. He had a small humidor on the corner of the desk. His walls held a few bookshelves, but mostly strange linear paintings. I chose not to dwell on them, or what they might mean. Jasper used to comfort me in how different he was from Edward. Now, his differences set me on edge.

I reach his desk, and I find myself pulling drawers open slowly, rifling through the papers that are mindlessly shoved in. Jasper is a lot more reckless than Edward ever was. I see plots for land acquired for storage, and a map marking a location, which surely holds some type of significance. All it would take is one warrant from any government agency, even just the local police, to get some type of evidence against the Cullens. Edward, on the other hand, was quick to burn anything that could potentially incriminate him or the Family. If we ever end up speaking again civilly, I think to myself, I should tell him about this.

When the drawers prove to be a dead-end, I begin to shut them. One of them, however, catches. Heart still pounding, I reach back and feel something taped underneath one of the drawers that was catching, inhibiting the closing of the drawer. I pull down and find myself holding a manilla envelope. It isn't labeled, but the seal is broken, so I pour out the contents. And it's like deja vu, that horrid morning happening all over again.

Inside are all the photos of Edward that I received a few weeks ago, and then some. I knew these couldn't be the few I gave Jasper upon my arrival, because there were some that I had deliberately left behind, so explicit that I never wanted to see them again. I found myself dry heaving over the photos, anxiety coursing through my body, but I kept going. I looked at the new ones, which included Edward in less compromising positions. There was one of him exiting a building with his father, scowling. There was another of him in a hotel room, alone, head cradled in his hands. Another one of us out together, him walking ahead of me, me following a few steps behind with giant sunglasses on my face and painted red lips. I look miserable in the photo, too skinny and pale.

One thing became clear to me: somehow, Jasper had something to do with these photos being taken and them getting to me. My leaving and running to him was clearly what he had wanted me to do, and I played right into it. Jasper had been tracking the dissolution of our marriage for a while it seemed. My only question was what he stood to gain. Was he trying to bring Edward down? Take over the Chicago operation? Get in better graces with their father? I had no idea. But now, I had no one I could trust. Alice was a ride or die, she would never go against her husband. I couldn't go to her. Edward was clearly out of the picture, for obvious reasons, and the only other people I could think of that might help me were people I hadn't spoken to in years, thanks to the isolation of being the wife of a _mafioso_. I was truly fucked.

I thought briefly to Jacob, sleeping in the guest room. I had no idea whose side he was on in all of this. It seemed most logical that he would be on Jasper's side, considering how he worked in his house. However, Billy Black was loyal to Carlisle. Could Jacob be here to keep an eye on Jasper? What did all of his cryptic words the other night mean? And what part did I play in any of this?

I quickly shoved the photos back into the folder and put it back where I found it. Once I was sure the room had been cleared of any evidence of my snooping, I left the office and made my way to the guest room I wasn't currently frequenting. The light was on, so I assumed he was awake. I briefly wonder if he knew I had been snooping around in Jasper's stuff. Did he know what I would find?

I don't even knock. I walked into the room and found Jacob by an open window, a lit joint in his hand. He looked at me with his dark eyes, seemingly unbothered by my suddenly rude entrance.

"Did you know Jasper had a part in the photos I received?" I demand. I decided there's no point in me being coy at this point. I was tired of being dragged in a million different directions by these men.

Jacob takes a hit off of the joint in his hand, holding his breath and then exhaling a slow stream of smoke.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me? I'm not safe here if that's the case."

"Love, you're not safe anywhere anymore," Jacob tells me knowingly, and I swallow against the harsh reality of that statement. He stares at me, and I can only imagine how I look right now. I imagine a bit frantic, eyes wild, tight fists by my side. He seems to take pity on me and offers me the joint in his hand.

I close my eyes and take a few harsh breaths. At this point, Jacob is my best bet to get any answers. I just need to figure out who he is. Who he'd take a bullet for. Opening my eyes, I take the joint from his hand, pulling a long hit off of it, before handing it back, still holding my breath. After several moments, I release and let out a small cough.

"Who are you loyal to, Jacob?" I ask, meeting his eyes without looking away for once. I'm waiting a while for his answer.

"Myself." He finally admits.

"You know what I mean."

"And my answer stays the same."

"Then why are you helping me?"

Quiet…. And then, "You don't deserve to be stuck with these people. I can see who you are Bella, and you're so much fucking better than this."

I don't disagree. That doesn't change that I am, in fact, stuck. And with that, I went back to my room without a departing word to Jacob.

I wake up violently with a hand clamped over my mouth. My eyes fly open and I start to scream, my eyes working hard to adjust in the pitch black so I can see whose weight is on top of me. I try to move, shake them off, but all motion is inhibited by this large, heavy figure.

"Shhhh, don't scream," The voice is pitched low, spoken directly in my ear. "It's Jacob." I'm breathing hard, my chest rising and falling as I look up at the figure. Sure enough, I can make out his dark eyes staring into my own. My heart is pounding, but I still my attempted thrashing.

"Don't scream," he repeats, his voice soft, but frantic. Panicked. "Someone has broken into the house. We have to get you to a safer location. They can't see you here."

Someone… broke in? To a Cullen home? Where was the outside security? Had they been killed? I nod and Jacob removes the hand from my mouth, helping me up, and taking my hand as he begins to lead me out of the room.

"There's a saferoom off the master," he whispers to me, and my eyes widen. The master bedroom is across the house.

"Listen, they'll most likely target the security room and the office. We should be able to avoid them but we have to move quickly."

We're moving stealthily across the house, my small hand trapped in his larger one, as I follow behind him, barefoot in my small silk camisole and shorts set. We manage to make it down the stairs, but that is the point in which the house floor plan becomes more open, and we have to be careful how we proceed forward. We loiter in the stairway as Jacob listens for any sounds. I can hear some talking and heavier footsteps in the direction of Jasper's office. Jacob motions for me to be quiet then begins to lead me across the living room, to the staircase that leads to the master suite.

"Hey! We got someone!" I hear a shout, and Jacob whirls around, pressing me behind him and raising his weapon. I see a reddish blonde ponytail that I vaguely recognize, and then Jacob releases a round of shots in that direction, effectively making them duck back into the office. Jacob shoves me up the stairs, and I run towards the master suite, Jacob close behind. He leads me to the closet and presses on one of the shelves. It clicks and pops open, revealing a room. Jacob pushes me inside, but I don't mind his handling.

"Lock the door. I'll come get you." I feel myself panic as he starts to close the door, not even looking at me.

"No! Don't go down there!" I beg, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt. Jacob pauses, finally glancing up.

"Don't open the door for anyone else. Don't answer if someone knocks. Listen for my voice." And with that, he closes the safe room door, and I turn the lock behind him, pressing my forehead against the cool door and sliding down to sit on the floor.

I don't know how long I sit and panic, waiting for Jacob to come back. I hear several gunshots, and then silence for a long while. I swear it was several hours, but it was probably less than 40 minutes before I began to worry if the gunshots had hit Jacob. If they had seen me. If they were searching the house for me. If I went through everything just to die in the saferoom of someone who had betrayed me, by the hands of some unknown group of men who apparently had the means to break into this house.

Finally, after lots of impatient waiting, I heard a godsend of a voice. "It's me." I detected the soft, firm tones of Jacob's voice and sighed in relief. I stood on shaky legs, tentatively unlocking the door and opening it slowly, peeking out. Jacob stood there, his long hair falling out of his bun slightly, the lines of his face unyielding. His gun was gone and he had blood on his upper eyebrow, but it looked like a splatter and I doubted it was his own.

"It was the Irish," He told me gruffly. "I got a few of them, but the rest left. They got some of the guards, but most were just knocked out." I opened the door the rest of the way, and before I knew it, I was in his sturdy arms, crying as the stress leached out from my body, until the sun began to seep in from the large bay windows behind us. Coated in golden light, shaking from my sobs, I fell asleep in Jacob Black's arms.


	9. Burn

EPOV

It's cold in Paris. It seeps into my bones and makes me ache, the way it seeps into my breath, turning it into small clouds. It was colder in Chicago when I left, but this feels different. Or maybe it's me, my own dynamic. Here, I only have small amounts of power. Some control in small areas, thanks to the Family who still work in Italy and take the time to maintain the power in our home country. Italy is ours. Chicago is entirely mine.

Bella would love the Paris cold. She loves any chance to wear a pretty coat and high heeled boots. She's damn near fluent in French. Italian, too, just from her time with me. She fits in well here, with her penchant for natural hair and bare skin and lipstick and an appreciation for tiny portions of rich food. If I close my eyes, I can picture her sitting across from me at Café de Flore, sipping her coffee and letting her eyes wander as she watches couples and families eating, barely picking at her food. The damn girl doesn't know how to eat. The last time I saw her, she was entirely too thin. I wondered if she ever ate when I wasn't home. I was never home.

Reopening my eyes, I find myself looking across the table at Jasper and Alice, who are eating while Alice flips through her magazine and giggles as she points things out to Jasper. Seeing them together, on top of the resentment I already feel for my brother, has made for an uncomfortable past few days. I ache for a bump. Instead, I clear my throat.

"How is your home recouping while you're gone, brother?" I ask Jasper, taking a sip of the black coffee in front of me. He looks at me, raising an eyebrow and finishing his bite of quiche.

"Jacob Black is handling things. He's quite talented. Takes after his father." Alice glances at Jasper, then me at the mention of Jacob Black. I feel my eyes narrow.

"And what has been the delay with him getting into the business?" I ask, straightening in my chair, recalling vaguely past conversations about this boy.

"Billy wanted him to get a legit degree first. A cover, I suppose." Jasper shrugs. I nod.

"Yes. A cover." I agree, but I'm thinking about this boy I don't know, taking care of things in my family business. I can't help but feel suspicious of him, especially with Alice looking so nervously between us. My phone buzzes in my hand and I glance down. It's a text from Carlisle.

_I have James here, refusing to leave. Says he saw your wife. He wants to speak to you in person._

I feel even colder now, at the mention of my wife. I physically ache for her, although this isn't a new feeling. I ached for months before she left. But at least then she was still close. I could still breathe in the scent of her hair as she slept turned away from me, crumpled tissue in her hand. Now, it feels as if she didn't even exist, except for in my memories and in the massive hole inside my chest.

The only James I know who would even have the balls to approach my father is that messy fuck, James O'Brien. Leader of the American syndicate of the Irish Mob by default. Someone killed his father and he took over. I've never liked him. Not only is he loud and drunk half the time, but he lacks power in his home country. His group holds the most power in America, and even that has been overshadowed by what _Cosa Nostra_ has accomplished.

I look up at Jasper, who glances away. James works for the Irish. The Irish just broke into a Cullen home. Now, they have information about my wife. Jasper has been watching me intently for days. Turning down my aid and men in response to an attack from a rival gang. His wife has been nervous around me, and Lord knows what part Jacob Black plays in all of this.

I feel rage settling into my entire being, filling me with fire. I shoot off a text to someone with me to have the plane ready in an hour. The business with _Le Milieu_ could wait. I stand suddenly, and the few guards with me stand from their respective tables just as quickly. Jasper looks up at me, eyes wide for a second before he gains control.

"Everything all right, brother?" he asks, continuing to eat. Alice looks between us even more frantically.

"I'm going back to Chicago. This is boring me. I'll cancel the remaining meetings with the French." I button up my suit jacket and pull on my trench coat. Jasper is watching me warily.

"You two enjoy a few romantic days together," I tell them, trying to control the raging fire that wants to burn through my words, through my gaze. I'm overflowing with flames, and I can't control myself. "Savor your marriage." I can't help but spit at them, as I turn and leave them behind, staring after me and my men as we head towards the only hope I've had for weeks.

The plane ride back to Chicago felt like it took much longer than it did. I continued to burn the entire trip, my constantly turning thoughts only stoking the flames. Is Bella in Miami? Does Jasper have something to do with this? Is he working against me? Against the family? Is he aiming for my position?

By the time I reach my father's office, I'm out of control. Flames lick around me, and people can see how I'm burning. They stay away, taking steps back or looking anywhere but at me. I'm sure I look crazy. I feel it, and I haven't even had a drink since before I left Paris.

Carlisle is in his office with Billy Black when I arrive. I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously, but focus instead on my father.

"Where's the Irishman?" I demand, and Carlisle looks at me passively.

"He's in Jasper's old office. It's the only empty room we have. He came back this morning to wait for you."

"Did he say where he saw Bella?"

"No. But you need to be careful, Edward. You're volatile, running off of your emotions. He will make demands, and I don't need you destroying the business over that girl."

"That girl?" I snarl, nostrils flaring. "That _girl_ is my wife. Have a little respect." I start to turn, but he's not done talking. He likes to have the last word.

"You hardly respect her, why should I?" He sounds calm, but his voice is hard. Ice.

I freeze. Where he is cold, I am a pillar of fire, and I rage as I turn back to him.

"You of all people can't say that since you were the one forcing other women on me. How many times did I tell you I didn't want to be that way?"

"And yet you did anyway," he replied passively. "You gave in to the pressure I put on you, just like you'll give in to the pressure James puts on you. You're impatient. You wanted my approval, you gave in. You want to know where your wife has run off to, you'll give in." He shakes his head at me like I'm a child that he's reprimanding. Like what I've said is foolish. "And as far as respect goes, do you think I stop respecting your mother? That I avoid her every night? That I barely look at her, barely touch her? Leave her to her own devices, isolating her from everything and everyone? No. Despite anything else I do, whoever else I've been with, I show your mother the attention and affection she deserves. I help her find things to do, ways to fill her time. I let her go to her therapist. I tell her the truth about anyone I've been with. Can you truly say the same?"

I couldn't. And he knew that. So instead of responding, I turn away, heading towards where James is, knowing that if I'm on fire, I can at least burn him with me.


	10. Aftermath

It has always been amusing to me, the way that we adapt to things that are irregular. Instead of fighting the tide, we simply go along with it, accepting it for what it is. Strong. Powerful.

Sometimes I wish I was the ocean, with a destructive tide, forcing others to move with my whims or risk being pulled under. Maybe I'm just the moon, controlling the impulses of something else, something bigger than me, with magnetic pulls and ethereal loneliness.

The reality is, I am neither. Because in this dangerous situation, like many others I've been in before, I simply accept it for what it is. I don't fear the people who were in this house, intent on death and manipulation and whatever else. I don't fear Jacob, who locked me in a room while he went through the house, working to remove the intruders using whatever means necessary. I don't care that he killed someone to protect me. Or protect the house. Whatever. I simply accept it for what it is.

My life.

I sleep through the initial hours of panic and wake up the next morning calm, observant. Men are called in, swarming the house to clean up everything without leaving a trail, calling the police on the payroll to inform them that there are enemies in town. Bodies are taken to be disposed of. The house smells of bleach, and I sit next to the pool, listening to everything happening around me. Ignored. Calm. Observant.

Jasper was called immediately.

He freaked out, unsettled by the news of a break-in. The Irish killed the first few guards for initial entry, then knocked out the rest. The house was unlocked for some odd fucking reason, and they went right in. It became apparent they went through Jasper's office, but they never made it to the security suite. When Jacob came in shooting, they fled. They hadn't taken anything, so we weren't sure what they were after. I didn't know enough about the Irish Mob to make even the wildest educated guess. I didn't know they had a presence in Florida and wondered if they viewed Jasper as the weakest link. The easier route to take to infiltrate Cosa Nostra.

Despite everything going on here, Jasper didn't immediately leave Paris. Jacob assured him he would take care of security measures being fixed. Jacob doesn't know that I overheard them talking, but Edward offered to send some of his men from Chicago down to Florida to help increase the forces here. They said no. He also asked to take a look at the security footage, to help identify who it may have been. He has more experience dealing with the Irish Mob than Jasper or anyone else here in Miami does. I don't know how Jasper managed to turn him down there, but Edward never got the footage. How shocking would it be to search for an enemy in security footage and instead see your wife running around barefoot in satin sleepwear, being tugged along by an enormous man in all black? And to later see that man carrying your wife, unconscious, back to her bedroom?

No one mentions Edward to me but his presence is overwhelming, pressing in on me from all directions. I'm too aware of how close he is to the people I have been living and speaking with daily. I'm not sure if I'm nervous or just scared that someone might slip and tell him something, but I have a feeling that it will all come crashing down soon, in one way or another. I have this premonition that I will see him soon, which I dread. I anticipate him with a sick combination of glee and despair. He'll drag me back to Miami, and try to beg me to take him back, and if faced with him so soon, I feel I might lose any self-worth I gained during my time here in Miami and do just that. I'll fall back into an old pattern that leaves me a small ribbon wisp of a woman, a memory of who I once was. Would he stay loyal if I took him back? Would it ever happen again? I can't say anything for sure.

Jacob, although busy, is attentive to my needs while everyone else is gone. He makes sure I eat, and that I feel safe. I don't bother telling him that I'm not scared. I think it's more for his sake than my own, and that scares me a little.

We've fallen into a silent routine. We don't speak to each other. We don't do things together. He'll ensure there is security to accompany me while I go outside to tan and swim. He brings me food when I forget that I need to eat. And at night, I often find that he's fallen asleep slumped outside of my door, leaning against the hallway wall. It's a strange partnership, one that I appreciate, but recognize that it may mean more to him than it does to me. I think about setting him straight, for both of our goods. While I may not feel what he feels, I still experience the pull of attraction whenever he's close to me. I attribute it to boredom, but no amount of self-love can stifle the feeling. I long for wild nights of sweaty passion, of twisted positions and hot, wandering hands. I don't know if I picture Edward when I imagine nights like that, or if Jacob's strong, tanned physique and shoulder-length hair have taken over my fantasies. I'm knotted with confusion and repressed feelings that I have no desire to feel, no desire to explore.

Jasper and Alice return earlier than originally planned, mercifully breaking up the pattern between Jacob and I. I don't ask questions about their trip, or more specifically the company on the trip, and they don't offer anything either. Alice brought back gifts for me, as well as her own plethora of shopping acquisitions, trying to bond with me over labels I don't really care about. Once, I would have attributed her excessive attention to her bubbly personality, but now I get the feeling she's just trying to distract me. I don't know if it's my new knowledge that Jasper is confirmed to be up to something, but I notice all these little glances between the husband and wife - fleeting butterflies of nervousness in their gazes. What was once a welcoming warmth that I needed upon my arrival to Miami now feels stifling and oppressive.

Two days after their return, Alice asked me to be ready in the morning to go out for brunch at this fancy place she loves nearby. I spent the entire night before tossing and turning, thoughts incomplete and disruptive, only allowing me a few hours of restless sleep. I considered finding Jacob and asking for a joint, but I feared approaching him might encourage his infatuation, and I doubt Jasper would allow me any of his personal stash. Even if he did, I wouldn't trust anything he gave me. I've seen him dabble in some harder shit, and I wouldn't put it past him to lace his weed.

So, after a night of tossing and turning, I spent extra time in the morning getting ready for my brunch date with Alice. By the time I was finished, my hair hung in shiny brushed out glamour waves, my dark circles were perfectly concealed and makeup flawlessly applied, and I wore a matching outfit consisting of gauzy high-waisted wide-leg pants and a tight matching tank top that left a sliver of skin showing between the pants and the shirt. It felt good to get dressed, to actually leave the house, but I had a stone resting in my stomach. Anxiety was making me nauseous, and I could only pray it didn't show around today's company.

I heard some noise coming from downstairs and, figuring it to be Alice rallying everyone who was going with us, I grabbed my purse and sunglasses and made my way to the stairs, high heeled sandals in hand. Halfway down the steps, however, a flash of darkness made my blood run cold.

Traipsing into the great room with sickening confidence, flanked by his dark-haired brother and a few other men, was none other than my husband. I froze on the step, staring at him with wide eyes. Jacob, who was entering the house to investigate the commotion being made by Edward's men, saw what was happening and managed to quickly position himself at the bottom of the stairs, blocking anyone who might approach me. Jasper frantically ran into the room from the other side of the house, looking unusually rumpled, followed quickly by Alice who had a hand clasped over her mouth in shock. My husband turned to Jasper, his smile razor-sharp as more of his men piled into the room.

"Hello, brother."


	11. Confrontation

_Traipsing into the great room with sickening confidence, flanked by his dark-haired brother and a few other men, was none other than my husband. I froze on the step, staring at him with wide eyes. Jacob, who was entering the house to investigate the commotion being made by Edward's men, saw what was happening and managed to quickly position himself at the bottom of the stairs, blocking anyone who might approach me. Jasper frantically ran into the room from the other side of the house, looking unusually rumpled, followed quickly by Alice who had a hand clasped over her mouth in shock. My husband turned to Jasper, his smile razor-sharp as more of his men piled into the room._

"_Hello, brother."_

Some people, such as my husband or even Jacob, thrive under pressure. The more high stake the situation, the better. Even in the most dangerous situations, they seem to gain focus, intention, whereas others may immediately fail. They flounder, their thoughts stop processing, their hands shake. I fall somewhere in between the two, but I have been known to hold my own when needed. Today, I quickly realize that Jasper, however, is someone who fails.

When Edward greeted him, Jasper simply stared back, trying to process their sudden arrival. His chest heaved, and I could read the panic underlying his expression. Edward stood and waited patiently for him to get his bearings, staring steadily at his brother who was trying to hide his panic. Next to my husband, Emmett snorted at Jasper's misfortune. When a full minute has passed, Edward simply continued to speak. "I know it hasn't been long, but I discovered a trip to Miami was long overdue for me. I think there are certain things down here that require my attention. I've been letting you run things on your own for too long, and I think it's gotten to your head."

I try to stay unaffected, but hearing Edward's voice again is almost like coming home. After all the uncertainty the past few weeks, it's easy to remember how he has always been home for me. _Until he cheated._

Finally, I can hear Jasper choke out a response.

"I don't think I know what you mean." His voice is shaking. Weak. Emmett laughs again.

Meanwhile, I'm frozen on the steps, watching everything take place. I'm grateful for Jacob, who is standing between me and the man I ran away from, my cheating husband, although I know it's only a matter of time before his attention is moved to me. I consider slowly moving back up the stairs, but I don't wish to draw unnecessary attention too soon and I don't really trust myself to be stealthy. Instead, I simply stand there and watch as Edward does what he always did best: control a situation.

I can see how angry he is, even from here. It's not even because I know him well - he's so mad that even a blind man would be able to tell that he is raging. He's burning, I can practically see the wild flames roaring inside of him, threatening to burn us all down. His smile is sharp, deadly. He's grinning at his brother like he's seconds away from strangling him. He probably is.

"You don't know what I mean, brother? So you aren't the person who has been harboring my wife behind my back for almost two months?"

Jasper is shaking, his entire body vibrating with panic. God, he's weak. I can't believe I ever believed him to be otherwise. Whatever his ultimate plan was with all his scheming, I don't see how he thought he could pull it off if he can't handle a little confrontation. There's a reason why Edward has always despised him, and I'm starting to why. I used to think it was because he was nicer than Edward, but it really is because he lacks what you need in this fucking Family: a backbone.

When Jasper doesn't respond to Edward's rhetorical questions, he continues talking. "You see, when I left Paris early, it was because I received a visit back home in Chicago from James O'Brien. Do you know who that is?"

He looks expectantly at Jasper, who shakes his head.

"James is the leader of the American syndicate of the Irish Mob. It's really quite funny, you're security isn't quite as tight as you thought. Not only do you have a fucking rat on your team, you have a rat who has been disclosing information about your business, about Family _fucking business_ to the Irish Mob."

Jasper's eyes widen and he looks over to his men who are in the room. One of them flinches, and then I register the sound of a gunshot. I somehow had missed that my husband had pulled his gun after disclosing that bombshell and fired at who I assumed was the rat. It was someone I hadn't seen before. His body slumped to the ground, and the men next to him simply took a step away from the body.

I didn't flinch.

Edward put his gun back into the waistband of his trousers and went on as if nothing had happened.

"So I guess that solves the mystery of how the Irish infiltrated your stronghold last week. It was during that raid, that James realized he recognized the woman he saw here in your house." With that, his eyes finally, _finally, _cut over to where I'm standing on the stairs, and he stares at me, his gaze hard. I can see emotions running rampant in his emerald green eyes, and he looks at me imploringly, begging me, and I swear it almost looks like he's hurt. Our staredown only lasts for a few seconds, but it feels like hours before he finally looks away and I can breathe again. I gasp, taking in desperate lungfuls of air as a million emotions run through me, and I hate that he affects me so strongly. I don't have time to dwell, because he's back to addressing Jasper. His voice has changed, getting harder, almost as if he's forcing the words out from between his teeth.

"James came to me to make a deal in exchange for the whereabouts of my wife. You see, he's quite interested in supplying down here."

Finally, Jasper finds it in him to stand up for himself. He puffs his chest a little, raising his voice and pointing a finger at my husband. "You can't do that, I fucking _own_ the game down here!"

Wrong move.

Edward is instantly in Jasper's face, and Jasper flinches back at the sudden close proximity. Edward's voice is quiet, and I strain to hear his cold words.

"_You_ are ruined, brother." His voice drips sarcasm at the word 'brother', and he smirks as gets even closer to Jasper, forcing him to take a step back and trapping him against a wall. "I told Carlisle you went against the family. You've lost all control."

Jasper is sputtering in indignance, but nothing he says matters. Carlisle's word is final.

Edward steps away Jasper, snapping his fingers twice in quick succession. His men start to disperse quickly, efficiently, some heading toward the security suite, some towards Jasper's office, some to the back of the house. Jasper's men, with the exception of Jacob, who is still protecting the steps leading to me, are removed from the room by Emmett and a few others, most likely to be interrogated, or perhaps killed. Edward is so angry, I'm not sure what he plans to do. Alice starts screeching at the men heading into their room, following after them, while Jasper simply watches with an ashen face. Amidst the sudden chaos, Edward has turned and is staring at me. I falter under his gaze. I long to be away from him, almost as much as I desire to be in his arms. As he stands in the middle of a storm, watching me for a reaction, I realize I've missed him. For the past year, I've missed my husband terribly, and it's easy to forget that the man in front of me is not the same man I married. Not even close. The person who has come to Miami looking for me is a stranger. So, quickly tearing my eyes away from his, although they seem to be pleading with me to stay, I do the only thing I can think of.

I run.


	12. Hostility

_Amidst the sudden chaos, Edward has turned and is staring at me. I falter under his gaze. I long to be away from him, almost as much as I desire to be in his arms. As he stands in the middle of a storm, watching me for a reaction, I realize I've missed him. For the past year, I've missed my husband terribly, and it's easy to forget that the man in front of me is not the same man I married. Not even close. The person who has come to Miami looking for me is a stranger. So, quickly tearing my eyes away from his, although they seem to be pleading with me to stay, I do the only thing I can think of._

_I run._

* * *

_Hostility_

I don't know where the fuck I thought I was going. All I knew was that I needed more time to get to a point where I would be ready to speak to Edward - even if it was only a few extra seconds.

My feet slide on the marble as I run to what has been my room for the past two months. I hear steps behind me, but when I glance back, I only see Jacob. A second later, however, I hear _his_ voice, quickly approaching. "Bella!" I throw myself into my room, and Jacob steps in as I'm slamming the door shut. I hear my name being called again, but I'm too busy trying not to hyperventilate, bent over in the center of the room. Jacob is at the door, locking it and then leaning against it. His eyes are animated, wild - something I've never seen in him before.

"What do you want to do?" he asks me, sounding breathless himself. "Give me the word Bella, I'll get you away from him."

In the background, I hear doors slamming open, my name being called. As the seconds pass, his voice gets louder and louder.

"Bella, let me get you out of here." Jacob pleads, and I understand what this is, what Jacob hoped to achieve. With Edward out of the picture, he has a chance. If he can get me away from here, that chance won't be taken away. If I stay, however…

"Jacob, I can't keep running from him," I tell him, and he looks so forlorn that my heart breaks for him - just a little.

"Yes, we _can_," he insists, but I'm already shaking my head. The pounding is now at our door, and Jacob flinches at the sound.

My nerves are taking over, and I feel my eyes water. "I'm sorry, Jacob," I whisper, and I move toward him, toward the door. His face is frozen, stoic, like I didn't just break his heart. And it might be vain of me to assume, but it feels like I just did. I watch him as he steps aside, not giving me anything, just letting me face the man pounding at the door. I also realize that he's not leaving. He won't let me face Edward alone, and for that, I feel so grateful I almost consider letting him take me away from here like he suggested. Almost. Taking a deep breath, steeling myself, I open the door to face my husband.

Already, Edward looks more frazzled than he did downstairs. His eyes are wide, and his hair is no longer perfectly coiffed. He stares at me, seeming to be pleading with me. While before I may have given into whatever it is he wanted, today I will not.

I don't even have to say anything. I simply watch as Edward drops to his knees in front of me, wrapping his arms around my legs. I waver, knocked off balance by his sudden affection, but I steady. I can't look down at him, but I feel him bury his face into the fabric of my pants, breathing in the smell of my thighs.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, and I can't help the tears that are now falling. Why is he doing this? Why, after all he has done, does he think he can say something like that to me? I close my eyes, holding back a sob, instead releasing a shaky breath.

"Get up," I tell him, steeling myself. He doesn't listen, instead squeezing my legs tighter. He's saying things, but I can't hear him over the roaring sound in my ears. "Get _up,_" I plead again. He doesn't. It's not until Jacob clears his throat that Edward pulls away, and I don't look down but I assume he's looking at Jacob. I feel dread seeping into my bones, and I'm wary.

Rightfully so.

"Who the fuck are you?" Edward growls, rising up from the ground. He keeps his hands on me, and he begins to pull me in towards him. I stand my ground, pushing him away slightly. He loosens his hold but grabs my hand. The contact is making me ache and making me sick. I hate that I don't hate him. I don't pull away anymore.

Jacob's eyes flicker to the hand holding my own, then back to Edward. His eyes are dark with anger.

"Jacob Black," he introduces himself, stepping forward to shake Edward's hand. Edward reaches out with the hand not holding my own, shaking hard. I can see how hard they are gripping by their white knuckles, skin looking fragile as it's pulled taut over bones. It's as they are shaking that Jacob smiles and says, "I've been taking good care of your wife."

I close my eyes, anxiety pulsing in my veins as Edward's grip on me tightens at the innuendo in Jacob's tone. "Well I appreciate your efforts," he grits out between his teeth. When I reopen my eyes, I witness their staredown, so I quickly step in.

"Alright you two, enough. Handshake over. Time to blink." I tell them, but neither lets go. Or blinks. I roll my eyes, then pull my hand from Edward's and physically step in between them, forcing them both to let go. "Enough!" I command, and I feel like my old self again - I recognize this voice of power that I used to hold once when I felt confident in myself and my ability. Unfortunately, I hadn't felt like this in a while. My high is temporary, quickly dissipating in seconds

I can feel the tension between the two men as they step back, but I know neither will leave the room. That doesn't stop Edward from trying.

"Jacob, if you could give me some time with my wife, I need to speak with her." Once again, he's pulling me into him, wrapping his arms around me, and I'm pushing away his weight. He scowls but maintains eye contact with Jacob, who also refuses to look away. Instead, he leans against the wall, crossing his arms.

"I think I'm okay right here," he drawls. I can feel Edward fuming next to me. His hand twitches and I know what he wants to reach for - the gun in his waistband. I idly wonder what was stopping him, but instead decide that even though my motives are different than Jacob's, I want him here. I don't trust myself to be alone with Edward, and while I know Edward would never physically hurt me, I find that I also don't trust him. The thought of being alone with him made my skin crawl.

"Edward," I whisper, and he manages to drag his glare from Jacob to finally soften on my face. I inhale sharply. "He stays, please."

What had relaxed in his expression was now morphed into rage as he took a few steps back, so that he could look at both Jacob and me at the same time.

"Him?" He snarls, hands fisting at his sides. "Have you been fucking him?" He attempted to move towards Jacob, but I quickly shoved him back, hating the physicality of this encounter.

"No!" I yelled, and then quieted, trying to stay calm while facing the fire that is my husband. "I haven't even touched him like that! I couldn't even _fathom_ breaking our vows, even though you already did that." My final words I barely choke out, but they have their intended effect. Edward tenses, then settles, no longer filled with rage but… guilt?

"Bella, baby, please. It's not what you think, I wouldn't…"

I interrupt him, not wanting to hear it. "You're telling me you didn't sleep with that woman? Multiple times?" The images flash behind my eyes, and he wilts, giving me my answer.

"So what could I possibly have mistaken? Your dick was inside her, _all_ of her, all the while your wife was most likely crying herself to sleep in your home. And now you want to tell me that you wouldn't do that?"

Edward is at a loss for words, and Jacob snorts derisively behind me, reminding me that he's there. It sets off Edward's anger again, but I speak before he can begin to yell.

"Your indiscretion aside," I manage to force out, closing my eyes briefly and holding out a hand as if to halt his anger, "you have other things to worry about. I don't know why, and I don't know how, but I think Jasper is involved in those pictures of you being taken and them inevitably sent to me."

It takes Edward a second to process what I've said before he finally responds

"How do you know this?" He asks cautiously, brows furrowed.

I sigh, then proceed to explain to him my suspicions over the past few weeks and the fact that I found an envelope with a much more extensive collection of photos in his desk. When I finish, Edward is still processing, and Jacob takes this moment to finally provide a bit of the insight he had been keeping from me. "He's been…. obsessive about you, Edward, for a while now."

I turn to face Jacob, who looks impassively back at me, no longer the frantic, wild-eyed, cocky young man I've seen today. "How do you know?" I ask, and he chooses to look at my husband rather than me as he responds.

"I've been slowly making my way into security this year. My dad asked me to keep an eye on things down here and report to Carlisle if anything came up. Jasper has been griping pretty vocally about you for a while. A few months ago, I happened to hear him talking to Alice about some photos, and then when your… when Bella showed up, I started to realize he had been having someone following you. I don't know his end goal, but he's got something going on."

"Why didn't you report anything to Carlisle, if that's what Billy asked you to do?" Edward demanded.

"I didn't know anything except that he was obsessed with you and acting _strange_. I don't think Carlisle cares that his Floridian outcast son is doing too much coke and hates his brother."

"But what about when my wife showed up? You didn't report that."

Despite the aggression being thrown his way, Jacob resumes his cocky air from earlier, leaning back against the wall.

"Because she clearly didn't want to be found. And I pay attention to what she wants."

Another jab, and I'm feeling exhausted. I felt like we wouldn't make progress sorting anything out at this rate. And just as Edward starts to respond, another person joins our hostile little trio.

"Emmett," I greet, and he grins at me. Of everyone in my Chicago life, Emmett was one of the few I actually missed.

"Bella, nice to see you again. It's been hell without you," he winks, and I roll my eyes. Before I could respond, Edward steps in.

"We're busy, Em."

Emmett sobered up, glancing at our odd configuration before focusing back on Edward. "You'll want to come downstairs. Dad's here."


	13. Names

Carlisle Cullen is best described as an enigma. Upon first glance, he's stunningly attractive. Blonde hair that has the slightest hint of white at the temples. That handsome face his children inherited, although he seemed more open, more kind. Take a second look, and you'll notice the tightness around his eyes, the way he analyzes everything in the room. You'll see the strength in his shoulders, the bulk of a gun under his shirt. Ultimately, Carlisle Cullen is a man who will kill you in two seconds if you ever dared to cross him. And from the way he is raging inside this Miami lake-side home, I can tell that someone will die today.

After Emmett came to retrieve us from my room, Edward had cursed at the news, then grabbed my hand and started to pull me downstairs. It was at that moment that Jacob took sudden offense and pulled on my other hand, attempting to extract me from Edward's grasp. After a slight tug of war, I managed to get them to stop, and then led the group to the foyer, where Carlisle stood, with Billy in a wheelchair at his side, and a mini-army gathered behind him. Vaguely, I wondered what the neighbors thought of the activity surrounding this house today.

Jasper was in the room, sat on a couch and tearing at his fingernails. Someone stood behind him, a hand clasped on Jasper's shoulder, and weight pressed down, keeping the brother firmly in place. Alice was next to him, looking smaller than ever, pale and curled up.

Carlise's eyes immediately honed in on me, and I kept my spine straight, my gaze firm, even though his stare made me want to flinch away and possibly run from the room. It's a few moments of silence before he gives me a sad smile and approaches me, wrapping his arms around me in a hug. I remain stiff in his hold until he releases me to look at me from arms length.

"Miami has been good for you," he informs me. "You look more like your old self."

I nod graciously, annoyed with the attention. "I feel better, thank you."

He nods and releases me, moving his focus to Edward and Jacob behind me.

"Edward," he greets, and something unknown passes between them. The tension skyrockets and I long for the days of lounging by the pool and feeling sorry for myself. At least then, the only tension I felt was the sexual longing emulating from the pool-boy-turned-security-guard now standing behind me.

"Father," Edward responds, "There are some things that require our attention in Jasper's office."

Carlisle nodded, glancing at Jasper, and then the man above him, who blinks in acknowledgment. Satisfied, Carlisle waves me ahead and follows me to the office, Edward trailing behind us. Upon our arrival, instead of waiting for someone to take initiative, I move into the seat at Jasper's desk and begin to pull out papers from drawers, piling up the ones that I noticed the other night that I believed required their attention. Finally, I reached under the top drawer, fumbling until I felt the corners of that fucking envelope. I set it on top of the pile and motion Carlisle towards the mess.

"In the envelope are photos that were taken of Edward - some include other members of the family. Some were sent to me the day I left, to show me Edward was… unfaithful," I finally forced out the word. "I brought some with me to give to Jasper as proof when I arrived in Miami, but there are way more than that in here. It's my intuition that Jasper was behind these photos being taken."

Carlisle watches me thoughtfully before picking up the envelope and pulling the contents into his hand. I can't see them again, so instead, I look around the room. Billy is next to Carlisle, also looking at the photos, and Edward begins to make his way toward them. Jacob hovers in the back with Emmett and a few of Carlisle's men. He meets my eyes, but quickly looks away, and a stab of pain runs through my chest.

I catch movement and turn to see Edward pulling some of the photos away from Carlisle, looking at them intently. I notice Billy looking at one, and glancing up at Edward, his expression contorting. Abruptly, Edward throws the photos down, his fists clenching at his sides as his face turns red.

"I'll kill him," he swears. "Brother or not, I'll kill him for interfering."

He begins to stalk off, presumably toward the living room, but Carlisle grabs his shoulder, halting him.

"What have I said of impatience? Of running off of emotions?" I watch as Edward tenses, something flashing behind his eyes. He stays put, however. "Obviously Jasper is working against the family's best interests. Therefore, I will be the one to sort this out, despite whatever you believe he has done to you."

Carlisle gives him another hard look before returning to the stack of papers in front of me.

"Bella, when did you notice something was wrong here?" he asks me without looking at me, simply passing through the papers I had laid out.

"Um, when Jasper kept insisting I call Edward and make sure he wasn't coming down here. Several times he asked me to call to ensure that Edward was still in Chicago. After the first call, I just started lying. Jacob sort of confirmed to me that things around here were off. Then, when they went to Paris, I snuck in here and found the photos. I also thought it was strange that he was keeping so much documentation when it could be used as evidence if anyone got ahold of it."

Carlisle nodded, still not looking at me. He glanced across the room. "Jacob has informed me Jasper had some strange… traffic, let's say. Visitors. People who we couldn't place in the underground."

I don't understand at first, but Edward gasps. "You think he's working with the government? What does Bella have to do with any of this?"

Carlisle shrugs. "t would explain all the documentation. And as far as your wife goes, he may have tried to include her in a plea deal. Keep her out of the way."

"What do we do?" Emmett pipes in. "We don't know how much information they already have on us."

At this, Carlisle smiles. "Actually, we do." He looks across the room at Jacob, who steps forward, away from the wall.

"So far, all they have is testimonies from Jasper and Alice. Jasper was supposed to work on gathering evidence and turning it in, and his main goal was to try to get Carlisle to allow him to be more included in some of the more national, or even international work. Jasper hasn't even provided half of what was necessary for the plea deal to be complete. His testimony is hardly enough."

I gape at Jacob, trying to process what he's saying - what it means about him. "Wait," I interrupt, and when I meet Jacob's eyes, I can tell he looks ashamed. "You're working with the government?"

He opens his mouth to respond to me, but Carlisle interrupts him. "Under my direction, he is working with the government, but reporting back to us. They thought they were using him as an eye in this house. Not even Jasper knows."

I feel a pang in my chest, and can't help but feel betrayed. All this time, I questioned who Jacob was loyal to - and for a short while, I thought it may have been me. But the entire thing was a lie, and I couldn't process how that made me feel.

Suddenly, Edward snaps his fingers, and he eyes his father angrily. "You knew she was here, didn't you?" He demands. "This whole time, you knew Bella was here, knew this fucker was keeping a close watch on her, and you didn't tell me!" By the time he finished, he's yelling, and his father is unimpressed.

"Of course I knew Bella was here. And I asked Jacob to keep an eye on her. Besides, Edward, a little competition will do you good. Lord knows how you took your wife for granted."

"Because of YOUR direction!" Edward shouts back. Emmett places a hand on his shoulder to try to calm him, but Edward isn't having any of it. He shrugs his brother off violently. "Why, father?" he spits. "Why did you want this to happen?"

Carlisle is frozen for a minute, and my heart is beating so fast I feel I may collapse. The room is taut with anger and tension, and I fear that Edward may cause it all to implode.

"Edward, maybe we should wait to-" I try to diffuse his anger, but he silences me with a glare.

"No, let him tell us all why he did this. Why he kept insisting I sleep with Tanya, why he continued to force her onto me. Why he kept you being here a secret from me."

"Tanya?" I gasp, feeling my heart suddenly drop into my stomach. There was a name. She had a name. Tanya, Tanya, Tanya. My husband slept with a woman named Tanya. Tanya sucked my husband's dick. Tanya took my husband's dick up her ass. Tanya. Tanya. Tanya.

Edward seemed to realize what he'd said, and he stepped toward me, remorse suddenly coloring his features. "Bella, I didn't mean…" he starts, but this time Jacob holds him back, shaking his head at Edward, telling him don't. Before Edward can react, Carlisle speaks, interrupting the cyclical nature of my thoughts.

"I pushed you to sleep with her for many reasons." he sighs, seemingly put off by his admission. "To see if you were loyal to me - to see if you would follow my direction. To see if you would value what I said over your wife, who you once considered leaving the Family for."

I gasped at that, shocked by the information, but he continued, ignoring me.

"But mostly, I knew that Jasper was plotting something. At first, I thought he only meant to attempt to overthrow you and get into my good graces. Simply a brotherly rivalry. I knew he had wanted to take over after me in Chicago, but instead, you were chosen, and he was instead shipped to Florida. But I started to suspect there was more to it, especially when Benny revealed to me that he caught someone doing surveillance on you and Bella in from an unmarked government vehicle. Jacob was approached by the Feds, and I knew there was a connection between your brother and the sudden activity within the Federal units. Then, I noticed the fondness he had for your wife. And I knew that he would try to save her from going down, because he, like you, views Bella as an innocent."

Edward looked at me, and he looked as sick as I felt. He looked so desperate and disparaged, and I didn't know what to say. Thankfully, Carlise continued.

"So, I pushed Tanya to you, knowing someone was watching you, and when someone attempted to deliver the photos of your interactions to Bella, I didn't interfere. And just like he knew she would, Bella went to Jasper, and he was able to pull the trigger on everything else. He began to give testimonies to the FBI and collected data from our dealings with Le Milieu." He waved a few papers at us, found in the pile I provided on the desk.

I try to control my breathing, control my thoughts, but I'm overwhelmed by the information, by the betrayal I feel. Edward is yelling violently, but I can't hear him over my thoughts. Not only had my husband cheated on, after being driven to do so by his own father, but I was simply a pawn in a game I had no control over. People who I thought were family had simply used me for their own gain. Even Jacob, who I had trusted, who I thought had fallen for me, was simply following orders, and I felt embarrassed at my vanity. I thought about what my father told me years ago when I told him I was going to school at Northwestern, and then again when I told him I was marrying Edward. I hated to say that he was right, but he was. I never should have gone to Chicago. I never should have married Edward. I never should have joined the Family.

Silence suddenly falls over the room. I can't look at anyone, looking instead at my own hands in my lap, twisted up in the fabric of my pants until the knuckles were white. I hear Edward speak.

"Now what do we do?" he asks. His voice is as sullen and dejected as I feel. Resigned.

Carlisle responds with a short laugh. I hate the sound.

"Now, we burn this fucking house down. And your brother with it."


	14. Gasoline

_Silence suddenly falls over the room. I can't look at anyone, looking instead at my own hands in my lap, twisted up in the fabric of my pants until the knuckles were white. I hear Edward speak._

_"Now what do we do?" he asks. His voice is as sullen and dejected as I feel. Resigned._

_Carlisle responds with a short laugh. I hate the sound._

_"Now, we burn this fucking house down. And your brother with it."_

* * *

When I was a kid, I was scared of fire.

To be fair, my childhood home had burned down when I was 9, and I had to be rushed out by my father while firefighters tried to quell the burn. A gas leak in the house, left unattended for days, until a sudden wrong move ignited a fire that took out the kitchen. Luckily, no one was injured, but the trauma stuck with me long after the embers had cooled. It took years for me to even look at a fireplace, and I still refused to use one on my own.

Now, I was facing several fears at once. I was facing my husband, whom I had told myself I never wanted to see again. I was getting involved in his work by even witnessing what was going on today, which he had promised me would never happen. And finally, I was watching as Carlisle's men prepared an entire mansion to burn to the ground.

I'm struggling to breathe.

We all stood in the living room, where a few men were throwing gasoline around recklessly. The smell burned my nostrils and I wanted to cry at the drastic change in scenery since even last night. This place that had once comforted me would soon be ash, like my childhood home. You'd think that I should be used to having the rug pulled from underneath me.

I'm not.

Jacob suddenly appears from upstairs, carrying two duffel bags. It takes me a moment to realize that he's bringing my stuff from my room, and I want to cry at the gesture until I remember that he had lied to me like everyone else here. Then I just feel sick.

He starts to bring them towards me, but Edward snatches them from him suddenly, and I remember that my husband has been standing next to me, watching as I fall apart.

"Hey," I snap at Edward, grabbing the bags from his hands, finding some of my resolve again. "Don't be rude."

He glowers at me, then turns his attention to Carlisle, who is entering the room with a sobbing Alice dragging after him, clawing at his arms.

"Please," she pleads, grabbing onto Carlisle's shirt, but he continues to move as if he doesn't even feel her hanging onto his clothes, weighing him down. "Please, you can't do this!"

Her screams make me flinch, which brings Edward's attention back to me. He lowers his head to whisper in my ear, "You don't have to watch this."I sneer at him and step to the side, further from him. He sighs, and looks back to the commotion in the center of the room.

Jasper is dragged in by two men, tied to a chair. His screams suddenly overpower those of Alice, and she runs to him, sobbing against his bound chest.

"This is fucking idiotic! I'm your son! I'm your son!"

Carlisle is watching passively, and my chest hurts with the fear that I'm about to watch Jasper burn. I find myself praying to my unknown god for a miracle, for Carlisle to change his mind, for Edward to stop this, _anything._

"You've conspired against the Family," Carlisle intones, his voice cold. "You conspired against your brother. You betrayed me, your father, and my years of work. All for a lighter sentence in the event that we were arrested. Arrested based off of information that you were going to provide to them."

Jasper has quieted now, watching his father warily.

"I honestly find it hard to believe you are flesh and blood when facing your cowardice."

Carlisle walks towards where Jasper is stationed, and suddenly I hear nothing. My ears are ringing, and any noise, or voices, or silence ceases to exist to me. I simply watch as Carlisle stands behind his son, and is handed a knife. I watch the expressions of Alice as she sobs and begs. I feel all the breath leave me as I watch Carlisle bring the knife down, and suddenly the noises rush back and I'm sobbing. I can't look and I turn away, sobbing, disgusted by this life and the fact that I just stood here watching. Disgusted by what my husband has tainted me with, finally facing it after all of these years.

I feel arms encircle me, and I don't have the energy to push him away. He's saying something, but I can't hear it over my own breaths until finally he breaks through. "Bella, baby, look. He's fine, please baby, look."

I take a few more shaky breaths before I turn to face what I expect to be a bloody mess. Instead, I find Jasper loosened from his bonds, and very much alive. He stands quickly, and turns to face Carlisle, not paying attention to Alice, who clings to his leg.

I watch as father and son face each other, staring, betrayal and fear. So alike in their golden tones they could be a reflection of the other. I witness the moment when Carlisle's expression softens slightly before he looks away, seemingly disgusted.

"Go," he tells his son, not even bothering to look at him again. "Where the feds won't find you. Where I won't find you. Before I change my mind."

And seeming to realize the blessing he has been given, Jasper is suddenly weeping. Someone on Carlisle's staff hands Jasper a bag and a pair of car keys, which Jasper takes, and without glancing at any of us again, he leaves, practically carrying his hysterical wife.

I simply stare at the empty doorway as he takes what I assume to be his final exit.

Billy is looking questioningly at Carlisle, who is stone-faced and gravely still. He looks at the door for a moment before barking orders to his men.

"Let's get out of here!" he calls, and starts to head towards the door. "Start with his office and work your way out."

Chaos explodes around us, and I find myself being led outside by Edward, followed closely by Jacob.

I'm quickly ushered into a car, and I'm not sure how or when, but Edward and Jacob come to some agreement, and they enter on either side of me. Carlisle climbs into the front passenger seat, Billy into the driver's seat, and we're moving. I'm sure there are cars following us to our destination, but I can't find it in me to care.

I feel numb.

What could I do now? Where could I go from here? Edward has found me. Carlisle is here. There's no way they'll let me leave. Edward would rather die than to allow me to leave him again. And then that leaves me with Jacob's offer. Was it a genuine offer? Could I leave with him? Could I allow him to risk himself for my own selfish reasons? Could I even trust him?

No. I could trust no one.

Ultimately, one question prevailed amongst all the others: could I forgive Edward?

It echoed in my mind.

_Could I forgive Edward?_

At that moment, we pulled into the parking garage of The Four Seasons hotel, and I knew the time had finally come for Edward and I to talk. I didn't expect it to be civil, or calm, or rational. I could taste iron in my mouth as I bit my tongue, anticipation coursing through me as I prepared for a battle.

Which of us would survive?


	15. Goodbye

**BPOV**

Edward and I used to have great sex. Like, really, really, great sex.

We'd fuck whenever we got a chance - wherever we got a chance. Edward was young and volatile when we met, and for him, a lot of that energy translated well into sex. Once we started, we couldn't seem to find an off switch. We'd have full marathons where we wouldn't leave his apartment until one of his brothers dragged him out. We'd even sneak off to hotels to hide away just so that we could fuck without interruption. He gave as much as he got, and it meant us having a very healthy relationship.

Until it didn't.

Until sex destroyed our marriage.

But that's not the point I'm trying to make.

What I'm trying to say is that hotels and Edward and I have a strange relationship. Aside from the marathons of sex, we've had some rough times at hotels. Once, when _Cosa Nostra_ wasn't getting along with the British syndicate, whatever they called themselves at the time, there had been an attempt to kidnap me from my hotel room in New York while Edward was out. They had managed to grab me and transport me, kicking and screaming, to the underground level before one of Emmett's men who had stayed behind on a fucking fluke realized what was happening and shot and killed the men who tried to make off with me.

Another time, Edward had gotten shot while fucking around in Paris and nearly bled out in our hotel room. I spent most of the night trying to stop the bleeding after I dug the bullet out of his side. We had to pay a lot of money to housekeeping to cover that shit up.

More recently, I received pictures of Edward fucking another woman in several different hotel rooms.

So there's that.

And now, here we were, checking into a room so that we could hash out what remained of our marriage.

I wasn't really thrilled about the situation.

Ironically, since Carlisle took the penthouse suite, we ended up in the honeymoon suite. Edward ushered me into the room, and suddenly became a busy body. I stood at the entrance of the room and watched as he carried my bags towards the wardrobe, then moved towards the bathroom.

"How about a bath? I'll draw you a bath." He told me this without looking at me, and I waited a few moments before I followed him into the bathroom. He was at the large tub, which was running hot water and causing the bathroom to fog up. I moved and sat on the lid of the toilet, watching as he added oils and soaps to the water. After a moment of hesitation, he stood back up and looked at me, seemingly surprised that I was just watching him.

"Will you… are you going to..?"

I'd never seen him so unsure. I pursed my lips and nodded.

"I will. Once you leave the bathroom." Edward is shocked for a moment before resignation sags his shoulders. I hate to see my husband, my tough husband, ever looks as lost as he currently does. But then I remember how we got here and I don't feel bad any longer.

He nods, and exits the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him. I wait a moment before rising and undressing, sinking my exhausted limbs into the hot water. The water soothes me as I prepare for what will inevitably be a battle between husband and wife. A battle where husband will try to atone for and justify his sins. A battle where I desperately search for a reason to trust him again. But my problem was that I didn't think I could go back to being his wife. I didn't know if I could stand by in this life anymore, constantly questioning his every move now that I had a reason to. Regardless of his reasoning, or the pressure he faced from Carlisle, Edward had cheated. Multiple times. And that was something I couldn't get over. I don't even feel like it would be different to me if it had only been the one time. I had seen with my own eyes some of the things he did with _Tanya_ that I could never unsee. Did I want to be with him after knowing what I know? After seeing him in another woman?

Another problem I faced was that despite everything, I still loved Edward. I didn't think that would disappear anytime soon. But was it enough to forgive him? Was it enough to forget?

I sighed as I got out of the bath, drying off and wrapping myself up in the robe that the hotel had left in here. It took me a few minutes to gather the courage to leave the room, but I finally did. Edward was sitting on the bed, his hands in his hair, pulling it in a million directions. He looked up at me, and his face was shadowed but I could see his desperation.

"Hi," he greeted me as I sat down on the couch in the sitting room, warily watching him as he pulled his hair. I nodded in acknowledgment. It only takes another beat or two of silence before he speaks up.

"Bella, I never meant for any of this to happen. You know I never wanted to be here." His voice is soft, pleading. It immediately invokes my ire and I scoff.

"I don't know anything right now, Edward. I feel as though I don't know you."

"You know me better than anyone!" He protests, seemingly miffed by what I said.

"I don't know you at all!" I argue, all those weeks and sleepless nights of anger and pain bubbling to the surface inside of me. "What kind of man is weak enough to let the peer pressure of his _father_ break his marriage vows? Hmm?" Edward's shoulders drop slightly at my words, and I press on. "And not only were you dumb enough to do it once, you did it more than once and got caught! Some kind of mafia genius you are, right _honey?" _I spit acidly at him. The term of faux-endearment finally breaks him out of his frozen state and ignites his anger.

"You haven't even tried to hear my point of view! You have no clue what it was like for me!" he yells, standing up from his perch on the bed.

"Then fucking tell me!" I scream back, standing to mirror his stance. "I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for cheating on your _wife_!"

Edward doesn't sink down at my jab but stands taller, eyes lit with rage.

"My entire life, my wellbeing and my welfare - our welfare - is based on the life and the business that my father created. And when my loyalties came into question because of my relationship with _you_, my father started to push me in directions that I never wanted to be. I see now he was just trying to test my loyalty in some royally twisted way, but he's my father! He's been in my life and supporting me long before you ever were around. So please, forgive me for following the direction of my family instead of my child of a wife."

"Oh, a child!" I laugh, throwing my hands up. "Even if I am a child, I'm not a cheater. So I guess I really don't mind it."

"Bella, I fought him and struggled with this for almost a year before I gave in! Why do you think it only got bad recently?"

"If by 'it' you mean our marriage, I suspected you were cheating the whole time. I knew it was coming, but I somehow deluded myself into believing you would never actually do it, especially with your convincing 'I-would-never-ever-cheat' act when we first started dating. I should have known you were just doing that so you could fuck me, not because you actually meant it."

Edward groans, fisting his hair in his hands and stalking closer to me in the sitting area.

"If I only wanted to fuck you, why would I marry your moody ass? Huh? It's not like it's fun dealing with your fucking mood swings."

"I don't know why you married me at all! Mood swings or not, you're not fit to be a fucking husband! I don't know how I even love you, Edward! You're toxic, you're evil, and I hate everything you stand for." I finish my rant with a huff sinking back onto the couch, crossing my arms and legs, and refusing to look at him. If he wanted to call me childish, I would act childish.

My words seem to have struck a chord, however, as he slowly sinks into the opposite chair, looking at me blankly. There are several moments of harsh silence before he finally speaks up.

"You still love me, then? Despite everything?"

I sigh, uncrossing my arms and rolling my eyes. "You can't just get rid of emotion like that, Edward. Despite everything, I have loved you for many years, and that love is still there. But I'm not the same. _We're_ not the same. And I don't think I can do this anymore," I admit.

"What?" he chokes out, looking at me with wide eyes, and I feel a pain in my chest at the anguish in his eyes. I close my eyes to take a deep breath, then open them, looking him dead on.

"I can't do this anymore, Edward. I want out."

And it's like a weight is lifted off of my shoulders as I utter those words. Despite the pain and dismay on his face, everything that has troubled me for the past year or so is resolved in those two sentences. I hadn't realized in all my time whining and moping that this was the direction I was heading, but now that the words were out, it felt so right. Because despite the fact that I love Edward, and most likely always would, I couldn't go back to my life before. And I couldn't go back to being with someone who I knew wasn't loyal to me. Even if he recommitted and renounced everything he had done, I could never let him inside of me again, knowing where he had been. I could never trust him again.

Suddenly, he was on his knees in front of me, pulling my hand into his own. "Bella, please. I didn't want it, I didn't mean it. I swear, it could never happen again. I love you, Bella, only you. You're all I've ever wanted. I need you. You're not done, you can't be." He pleaded. "You promised me forever, Bella. You promised!"

I could feel the tears tracking down my face, but I stood my ground, pulling my hand from his.

"You promised loyalty, Edward. I'd say our promises don't mean all that much at this point, wouldn't you?"

And with that, I stood up, marching over to the wardrobe and pulling my bag from in front of it. I tried to ignore the fact that I was sobbing, ignore that the man I loved was on his knees begging behind me. My mind was made up.

"Bella, don't," Edward whispered. "Please don't do this."

I closed my eyes, wiping my face of tears, before turning around to face him. I took one last look at him, so different from the cocky man I met so many years ago. His hair was in disarray now, his face blotchy and his eyes wet.

"I love you, Edward. That will never, ever change." I make my way to the door, ready to move on, in whatever way I could make that happen. I knew it would be a battle, but I was resolved on moving forward from this chapter of my life.

As soon as I made it to the door, I felt a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around, and suddenly his lips crashed down onto my own. I whimpered into the kiss, drowning in his passion, and I met it with my own. Our kiss was one of desperation, of pain and longing and goodbye. It was teeth and pressure and force and nipping and sucking. It seemed to last forever until finally, we had to pull away to breathe, and Edward leaned his forehead on my own, inhaling my air and caressing my face.

I took a moment to appreciate our love, our marriage, our years of happiness before everything went to shit. I took that moment to let it all go.

"Goodbye, Edward," I whispered, and quickly turned away, twisting the door handle and suddenly I was in the hallway. The door clattered shut behind me, leaving me standing in a robe, face coated in salty tears, anxious and ready for something new.


	16. Epilogue

_ **Epilogue:** _

I'm too calm.

I know that. I know I should be panicking right now.

But for some reason, I couldn't find it in me to react the way any normal person would. It was hard to be mad at much of anything when you're on the coast of Italy, even if you are standing on the edge of a cliff.

The salty breeze caused my skirts to whip and billow from my legs, exposing tanned skin to the setting sun. This was my safe place. This was my home.

This was my escape.

It's been over a year since I left the United States - since I left Edward. After our final discussion, I had gone to Carlisle and told him I would leave him and his family alone if he allowed me to leave - gave me some sort of respite. I had practically begged him to let me out of this without death being my only option. I promised and I swore I would never speak to anyone about the family or the family business. He knew I had no money that wasn't tied in Edward, and he knew my family wasn't an option. So, he sent me somewhere he knew Edward wouldn't come - the safe house on the Almafi Coast in Italy.

I knew that this was Carlisle's way of keeping me within reach while keeping me away from his son. I knew he had people watching me this entire time. Since they never really bugged me, I couldn't find it in me to care. It was better than staying in Chicago, and it was better than ending up in a shallow grave.

As far as my security that Edward would not find me, I knew he would never come here. It's not that Edward had anything against Italy; he had just been very vocal in the past about only liking Italy when he was with me. We figured that without me, it wouldn't hold any appeal - in fact, it would actively keep him away from here.

The past year had been filled with times of emotion, of healing, and of rebuilding. Most of my time here in Italy was spent on my own, secluded from the rest of the world, and it gave me lots of time to think. There were times when I questioned if I had done the right thing - questioned leaving Edward. But in the end, I knew I made the right choice. I knew I could never go back to just being 'the wife'.

Coming to the edge of this cliff was a part of my new daily routine. Looking out on the water calmed me, grounded me. Standing here, I took a moment to acknowledge what I had overcome. I felt strong. Invincible. Here, I felt like a woman again. Here, I found my happiness.

As the sun was about to slip completely from view, I turned and made the short walk back to the safe house. Really, it was too ostentatious to be a proper safe house, as it was a fully remodeled stone cottage with a tower from the 1300s built into the cliffside. Everything inside was newly painted and renovated, and it had quickly become my sanctuary. Upon my arrival, I had spent lots of time hauling items such as furniture and decor from Positano back to the cottage, decorating it to my liking. It was a place of my own, regardless of if it was provided to me by the Italian Mafia.

As I neared the home, I saw someone standing at the front door in all black, waiting. I approached them cautiously, and the strange man simply stared back at me. I stopped several feet away and waited for him to speak, unnaturally calm in a potentially dangerous situation. He took a few steps towards me and I stood my ground, eying him warily. Finally, he held out a manilla envelope for me.

"From Carlisle," he muttered in his heavy Italian accent, then waited patiently until I took the envelope from him. As soon as I did, he nodded and began to walk away. Instead of watching him disappear into whatever hole he hid in, I went inside, slipping off my sandals and ambling my way into the dining room.

Sitting down at the table, I stared at the envelope for a while before just deciding to bite the bullet. I broke the wax seal and poured the contents out in front of me. A packet of papers and a letter on a grey card. I went for the card first.

_You're welcome._

_\- Carlisle_

Curious now, I set the card aside and looked at the papers held together by a binder clip. When I saw what it was, I grinned.

Divorce papers.

Flipping through the stack, I was pleasantly surprised that they had already been signed by Edward. I sent a silent prayer of thanks up to whatever deity changed his mind and allowed him to let me go. I had expected him to hold on to the one thing I left him - our marriage bond - until he could either find me or until he found someone else to share his time with.

Finding a pen, I located the tabs where I needed to sign. It was as I dated the final signature that I realized the date - today was our wedding anniversary. Not that it mattered now.

I closed the packet, fully executed now, and packed it back into the envelope, getting up and leaving it on the front porch for one of Carlisle's men to take care of. Closing the door behind me, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the door, overwhelmed with lightness and joy.

I was finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please don't hate me.
> 
> Writing this was such a journey for me. My first fic, and it was a total doozy. I'm so glad that it has interested and enthralled so many people, and I have been overwhelmed by your support.
> 
> I know a lot of people wanted Edward and Bella to somehow end up together, but I don't think that was ever in the cards for this story. From the beginning, I promised that Bella would have a happy ending. For her, this was a happy ending, and I couldn't be happier that she ended up here.
> 
> A final thank you to those of you who read this story, especially those who patiently waited for my erratic chapter updates. You're all amazing.
> 
> I already have other stories in the works, and others I plan on working on. Hope to see you there.
> 
> xx orionsnights


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